The incident sheet or the clothes bag; pick your poison

Dec 04 2011 Published by under [Life Trajectories]

You never know what you're gonna get when it comes to daycare pick ups. For the most part it's either easy or you escape with minor difficulty. And then there are days where you are faced with one of the two dreaded cubby discoveries: the incident sheet or the clothes bag. For those of you without daycare in your lives, I'll explain.

The incident sheet is about as good as a police report. Basically it means that your child was on the giving or receiving end of some sort of youth on youth violence. We went through a string of these sheets when there was a biter in the the group, and again when a wave of pushing (usually face first into something) struck much of the class. It sucks when your child is the injured party, but not nearly as much as when they prove to be the perpetrator. Those are the days to take the back door out of the place.

The clothes bag, on the other hand, is the black box you get when your child has had to change their clothes during the day. If you're exceedingly lucky they spilled their drink at lunch, but that rarely happens. More often than not, there was a bathroom related incident and you have to hope that they just waited too long to pee. I won't lie, I have thrown a bag away in the classroom after hearing about the incident that resulted in the bagged clothes. If the word "explosive" is used in the description, it's best just to move on.

11 responses so far

  • OgreMkV says:

    I have, at times considered just throwing the child away and making a new one instead of trying to clean him.

    I wrote this some time ago and just copied it over... enjoy: http://ogremk5.wordpress.com/2011/12/04/defcon-for-the-parent/

  • Alyssa says:

    Check and check. So much fun 😛

  • Namnezia says:

    Well, at least they got to deal with the explosion, and not you while you, say, order deli meats at the grocery store.

  • New Asst Prof says:

    This. Oh yes, this. After a looong day at the ER - for Mr. NAP, not Sweet Pea, thank goodness - this got me giggling. Thank you!

  • DJMH says:

    Kid in preschool bit my child on the motherfucking *face* last week. Of course, Small seemed unbothered and it mostly looked like he had a giant lipstick smooch on the side of his head, but seriously, what kid bites another one on the face?

  • pyrope says:

    Not helping my mother-in-law's cause of convincing me I want children (nor did this morning's extended NPR article on children's tantrums - "listen to the quality of this 5 second screaming clip to hear her anger change to sadness". OMG, talk about ways to make me wake up cranky!)

  • Patchi says:

    Clothes are cheap... some things you just don't want to clean.

  • Sxydocma1 says:

    I would take the clothes bag any day over the incident sheet.

  • whizbang says:

    I still remember the day my son urged all over himself and Puffy, his attachment object, during a road trip. I looked up and saw a Walmart and pulled in. I had my mom strip his down to a diaper and bag the offending clothing and toy (a satiny stuffed pony) while I went through Walmart for new clothes, a new Puffy (alwa;ys good to have a back-up) and another carton of baby wipes.
    15 minutes later, we had a clean little guy with an empty stomach (we still had almost an hour to our destination), happily sucking his thumb and holding Puffy against his face. The other outfit went in the washer and did fine after mostly milk vomit.
    Diarrhea that's been bagged all day? I would have tossed it in the trash and bought two new Puffys.

  • Ink says:

    I laughed so hard at the last sentence that my throat hurts a little bit now...

  • Zuska says:

    If there were more posts like this in the blogosphere and if adults told teenagers "under no circumstances can you read these posts" so that the kids would want to run out and read them, kind of like my non-reader sib did with Catcher in the Rye when a bunch of idiots got all worked up and wanted to ban it from our school library, I bet the teen pregnancy rate would plummet. As it is, I have to say I did not laugh; I read in horror and thanked all the gods that be, that I never procreated. Being handed a bag of clothing steeped in diarrhea for most of a day is an experience I gladly leave to those of you who willingly took on the job of reproducing society. Thank you, on behalf of all us child-free folks.

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