Friday, October 19, 2012

Junk in the Trunk

One sunny afternoon, my husband and I sat in the living room talking and laughing.  Son #1 played outside in the backyard while Son #2 ran around the house chewing on various toys.  On one of Son #2's flybys, a foul smell assaulted our noses.

My husband turned to me and said.  "I think we have a poop diaper."

"Man, I don't want to change it this time.  I'm so tired."  I whined.

"Fine."  He said grumpily.  "But you have to help me."

"Alright."  I said in a growly voice.

My husband took our stinky baby to his room and announced.  "Change you!"

Usually, Son #2 lies down and patiently waits while we fix him up.  That afternoon was not one of those times.  Before my husband could get his diaper off, Son #2 rolled away and took off like a streak of lightening down the hallway.  As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, we caught a glimpse of his heavily loaded diaper swaying wildly.

There was definitely plenty of junk in our baby's trunk.

Yuck.

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