I once worked for a man who said: "It's funny when you're three and it's still funny when you're eighty-three."
He was referring to bodily functions.
In the last two days, I have been farted at and on (YES ON) and I don't know quite how to say this - it was not by my child. Ahhh. Romance! Nothing quite says 'I love you' like being pinned to the ground and forcibly flatulated (is that a word) on. And it's even better when your toddler looks on with glee, clapping his hands and cackling like a little imp.
Even our male dog farts at me. Carl somehow can aim his tush right at me and ready...aim...fire. Seriously. These things call for gas masks.
Conversation from last night:
B and I looking at each other.
"Was that you?"
"No. I was going to ask you the same thing."
Simultaneously look down at Carl sprawled out on the floor.
"I guess I shouldn't have fed him that left over garlic butter..."
And to cap it all off, G seriously had the most offensive, atrocious poop last night. I was feeding him dinner and he started grunting and pushing. I wasn't too alarmed, I figured it was just a normal poop.
Oh no. Oh Lord no.
I knew I was in trouble when I pulled him out of the highchair and I could see it SEEPING UP HIS ONESIE.
I had already run his bath so we proceeded to the bathroom. Where I pulled down his jeans to discover the poo had also escaped his diaper at the leg holes and had traveled down his legs and to his socks. Damn you Pampers!
At this point, I called in reinforcements. B brought me about 40 wipes and almost barfed. He had to leave the scene of the crime.
All the while, G is happily singing to himself, trying to grab at his nasty diaper and then touch every surface in the bathroom. I peeled off his clothes, threw them in the toilet, wiped off the CHUNKS and into the bath he went.
The clothes required about five minutes of swirling and flushing. And it was still sticking. I'm praying that my high tech washer lives up to its promises.
So, I guess this is my life now. Bodily functions.
I need to bone up of the fart jokes, stat.
3 comments:
I am so there with you! Married to a man, have a boy (who is now 9), have 2 male dogs and 2 male cats. I'm surrounded! Yes, start now learning those jokes. :)
Been there and have done that one to many times with the diaper. Glad I don't have it any more.
Sounds like my house full of girls ;) Maybe that's because their mom grew up in a house of boys...
Gotta love the poopy blowouts - that's exactly what happened to us 1 hour into our 5 hour flight back from Hawaii. Just imagine trying to clean up that mess in an airplane bathroom!! We actually had one of those messes again this morning and I when I stood A next to the bathtub while I filled it up, she proceeded to pee all over the floor and then of course she stepped in it and slipped - she was then covered in poop and pee. Love it! All you can do is laugh :)
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