By Kimberlee Jensen Stedl and Todd Stedl
Todd and I met at a goth/industrial dance club in Seattle several years ago and continued to enjoy the scene for a number of years and have lots of frivolous clothing to prove it. After moving to Missoula and subsequently having our son Ivan, our two bins full of club clothes never see the light of the moon these days.
Luckily Halloween presents the chance to dust off our old stompy-stompy boots. Halloween Eve Todd went to teach his math class dressed in Johnny Cash’s favorite color and donned some serious boots—knee-high replete with lots of buckles and spikes. They’re quite impressive boots, well, at least to us.
However, unbeknownst to Todd, our son Ivan was brewing up a nasty stomach virus. And thus did the two collide.
I’ll let Todd tell the rest of the story.
I wore my knee-high ass-kickin industrial boots today while teaching. Halloween is always a good excuse and I don’t get to wear them much anymore. I still had them on after dinner.
Ivan was playing and Kimberlee was getting his bath ready. I was finishing a beer at the dining table. I heard a “phthltsh” come from Ivan’s direction. Kimberlee checked it out—full load of wet poop. Ivan started making his way to the bathroom and out came another “phthtsh.” I just knew there was no way his diaper could have held that one, too.
I whisked him into the bathroom and we checked—grey, runny poop screaming down his legs. It was generously sprinkled with peas, which are Ivan’s favorite vegetable. We plopped him in the tub and rinsed him off. After cleaning out the tub Kimberlee and Ivan enjoyed a bath (usual routine) while I rinsed off the poopy clothes.
Finishing, I left the bathroom and noticed a few poop-slimy grey peas in the hall. Some must have fallen out of his pant leg as I brought Ivan into the bathroom. Cleaning those up, I realized they were the perfect size to get stuck in the tread of my boots.
These boots have stomped on cigarette butts, puddles of vomit and spilled alcohol, maybe even a few pools of blood. They’ve calmed the miscreants who thought the dance floor was a mosh pit by “accidentally” stomping on their ankles. I never really cared what these boots stomped on…until this evening when I had to clean nasty viral toddler poop out of them.
Kimberlee and Todd Stedl are not only the parents of Ivan, they are also
co-authors of two books: Yoga for Scuba Divers and Yoga with a
Friend: Develop trust, communication, strength, and compassion when you
practice yoga with a partner. Learn more about Kimberlee here.
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WOW that is disgusting!! But I love the contrast of “old life” vs. “new much more challenging but SO rewarding life” Thanks for your story.