Captain Itchy Pants

Whenever something irritates Bubba, it irritates him to the extreme. When it interrupts him while he is sleeping, it irritates him to the extreme tenfold. Such is what happened Friday night.

I was blissfully dreaming of chocolate waterfalls or some similar nonsense when I was jolted awake by Bubba screaming in terror.

MY BUTT IS ITCHY! MY BUTT IS ITCHY!

I knew we were in trouble when his frantic cries for help irritated me rather than call to my maternal compassion. The first thought that came to my mind was pinworms. Ugh.

I coaxed a deliriously screaming Bubba into the bathroom. Bend over so I can wipe your butt.

Bubba continued to jump and scream. Why's my BUTT ITCHY?!?!? IT'S ITCHY!!!! MY BUTT IS ITCHY!!!

This conversation repeated several times, both of our anxiety levels rising. I felt no sympathy for Bubba even though he was redfaced, blotchy, and covered with snot and tears. I was just plain crabby.

Since Bubba has bowel retention issues, there have been many a time where I have had to trick him to insert a suppository or smear petroleum jelly on his rear. So his lack of eagerness for me to be anywhere near his bottom is understandable. Evenso, when I tried to come close to him once he bent over, I was perturbed when he thrashed around and yelled uncontrollably, Mom, is there Vaseline on there? Mom, NO Vaseline! NO VASELINE!!!!

By that point I forgot I was a mother, and felt Satan emerging from my chest. I tried to breathe through the rapid heat spreading below my sternum. Bend over so I can check your butt for worms.

I knew right after the words seethed out of my mouth that I had just destroyed any hope of getting through this itchy incident anytime soon. I imagine now that poor Bubba was envisioning earthworms crawling around his bottom, so the ear-piercing screaming that followed made sense.

Finally, once I realized that my only urge was to scream back at Bubba, I called for reinforcements. Yes, Daddy had been sleeping through all of this.

Once common sense entered the picture, Bubba's butt was wiped with a soft wipie and his underwear was changed. We couldn't think of anything else to do. Daddy convinced him that his butt did not in fact itch, and we tucked him back into bed. After the 45-minute ordeal, Bubba fell asleep swiftly. Moosie thankfully never woke up. Daddy and I were not so lucky...it took another 30 minutes or so to get Captain itchy pant's screaming out of our minds.

Bubba didn't remember a thing in the morning and has not had an itchy attack since. I will, however, feel more than a tad guilty each time he screams when approached by an earthworm.