Saturday, September 29, 2012

Poop on the Floor

Son #2 was fresh and shiny from his fantastically warm and bubbly bath.  He was wrapped in a green goldfish towel.  I was pulling out his diaper, a dress shirt, fashionable baby jeans, and a cool puffy vest.  He was going to be stylin'.

While talking with my mom on the phone and laying out the diaper, I heard grunting.  Oh no. 

I said to my mom.  "Hang on a second.  The baby is making a funny noise."  Then, mayhem ensued.

A wad of poop fell from Son #2's upright hiney onto the floor.  Sadly it was not "man poop" and fortunately it was not diarrhea.  Unfortunately, it was a median of the two.  The poo fell to the floor like frozen yogurt. 

I screamed.  "Nooooooooooooooooo! Oh nasty!"

My mom laughed and said.  "I'm going to let you go."

Frantically, I grabbed for the container of wet wipes and then watched in dismay as another clump of soft serve poo slithered down my baby's leg.  Then, Son #2 stepped into the two piles of poo.  The Horror.

Quickly, I grabbed one of Son #2's tiny yet nasty legs and attempted to sterilize it with the wipes.  My poor baby hung onto his furniture for dear life as I leaned him this way and that swabbing away any remnant of feculence that might try to elude me.

Eventually, Son #2 was clean and shiny albeit not as fresh.  The floor was clean as well and the essence of poop had been removed from the building.  I guess I should be thankful this post isn't entitled "Poop in the Tub".

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