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“Oh, I’m sorry,” Faith says quickly. “James, you can’t squish banana onto people.” Faith stands and wets paper towel.
“It’s fine.” Samuel takes the paper towel and wipes the mashed banana from his board shorts.
Rose passes wind, and it’s so loud it even surprises me. “Oh, that doesn’t smell good.” I wave my hand in front of my face at the rotten egg odor coming from my daughter amid the giggles from around the table.
“Allow me.” Samuel drops the paper towel and mashed banana in the trash before lifting Rose from her highchair. “We won’t be long.” He carries Rose out of the room.
Samuel calls my name.
I stare at Faith and tilt my head.Weird because he’s capable of changing a nappy.
“Eden,” Samuel shouts again.
I dash to the bedroom, believing something is wrong with Rose. Samuel is standing over the change table, Rose is kicking excitedly, and poop covers his outstretched hands all the way to his elbows.
“Oh my…” I step tentatively toward the table, poop covering it. When I meet his gaze, his eyes beg for help. I can’t help it and burst out laughing. “I’m going for backup,” I say and rush out of the room, laughing way too hard.
“Don’t leave me,” he calls out. “I can’t touch anything.”
“What’s going on?” Faith asks with a coffee now in front of her.
“Samuel has poop to his elbows. Can someone help us?” I ask, trying to be serious.
“Jake, watch the kids.” Faith jumps up to follow me.
“Gladly,” he chimes.
“There has to be something wrong with her. It was like a projectile of feces,” Samuel moans. His arms are stiff, and he’s afraid to move.
Faith chuckles while pushing up the sleeves of her navy sweater. “We’ve all experienced days like this. It’s funny when it’s someone else.”
He ignores Faith and stares at me. “Someone will have to turn on the faucets for me.”
“Faith, take Samuel to the laundry room,” I instruct. “I’ll finish cleaning up Rose in the bathroom.”
11
SAMUEL
Rose is the devil in disguise. Her pretty face was distorted as fecal matter blasted from her tiny sphincter covering everything in a one-foot radius. Immediately after emptying her gut to what appeared as the last week of stomach contents, she smiled at Samuel and kicked her legs in relief.
“Okay, doc, stick your hands under here,” Faith says as she stands by the sink with one hand on the faucet. She turns the water on and stands back to avoid the splash. Matter washes away, and she squirts soap onto his hands.
“Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
She makes a strangled noise. “Surely, you have experienced this in your day, doc? You’re acting a little precious.” She grins at him.
“Obviously, yes. In a hospital environment, there are vinyl floors and faucets I can turn on with either my foot or an elbow, not in someone’s luxurious home. More soap, please.”
“What about in the jungle? You didn’t even have running water to wash your hands.”
“It was different.” A memory flashes into his head—excretory products landed on dirt and were covered quickly to absorb into the earth.
“Okay, you’re good to go. I’ll splash disinfectant around the basin to be sure.”
“Don’t bother,” Eden says from the doorway. “Can you please take Rose, and I’ll clean up after I’m finished.”
“Allow me to wash my hands one more time,” Samuel says.
