Friday, February 08, 2008
I try not to blog to often about poop.
It's not that I mind talking about poop. Those that know me well know I actually enjoy talking about gross things like poop, earwax, vomit, pads, farts, etc. Except toenails. I draw the line there.
But I know not everyone shares the same affinity for grossness, so I try to keep it to a minimum here. And I'm quite sure no one wants to hear about my kids' poops. However, what I experienced yesterday warrants a post.
Wait! Come back...you'll want to hear this.
Kendall (that's right, Kendall...you thought Cason didn't you?) pooped more yesterday than I have honestly ever seen in my life. I mean, in all my years of babysitting, working in a daycare for two years, and going through Cason , a champion pooper if he does say so himself, I have never seen anything like this. And I'll give it up to Pampers. That little Pamper, bless its heart, was just holding on within an inch of its life. When I opened it up, it exploded. Everywhere.
After five wipes didn't even make a dent in the volume of poop, I just stuck her under the faucet in the tub. The tub that I had just one hour earlier scrubbed down. When I went to throw the diaper away, the Diaper Genie just laughed at me said, "You must be joking." The pj's she was wearing just got trashed. If you were the one that gave them to me as a gift, I'm sorry for your loss. All the while, Cason was eating lunch and when he realized he was by himself, he started calling out my name at the top of his lungs. It was at that point that I realized I have no idea what I'm doing.
Kendall is going to make someone a fine wife someday.