Puddle Jumping

I stepped in a puddle the other day.  Doesn't sound like a big deal, does it?  Except that this puddle was at the Tot Lot in a gymnasium filled with toddlers and preschoolers.  I was giving the kids their we're going to leave in 10 minutes warning, felt something splash on my toes, looked down and found my Reef flip-flops totally surrounded by liquid.  Mystery liquid.  In a room with toddlers.

Be proud of me, I didn't say what I was thinking, which involved a lot of not-so-nice words, including one or two that start with "mother" but don't end on such a pleasant note. I shuddered, calmly walked back to my stuff and wiped my foot off.  Then I grabbed the kids (screw their 10 minutes) and went home where I could scrub my foot in the comfort of my own bathroom. 

Overreaction much?  Yeah, probably.  I know it was likely water from somebody's sippy cup.  I know it wasn't juice, because it wasn't sticky.  But there is still the possibility that it may have been urine.  Toddler urine.  From a toddler that is not mine.  I get the chills just thinking about it.  I find pee disgusting.  Worse than poop for me.  I know, I have my own kids, I must see quite a bit of toddler urine and I do, but I deal with the pee from my own kids 'cause I love them and we share DNA and stuff.  I can even deal with pee from kids I know if I have some advance warning, but stranger pee* crosses the line for me. 

Also, who the hell spills (bio- or otherwise) stuff all over the gym floor and then doesn't clean it up.  They're pretty lenient about food and drinks at that tot lot (as opposed to Coralville, where the woman in spiked heels crossed the gym floor just to tell my kid to put the raisin box away), so come on, clean your damn spills up.

And speaking of urine, I need to go wash diapers.


*I wonder if the phrase "stranger pee" will get me any kink-search hits.