I've heard the stories. I understand it happens to every family, eventually. The day your baby has a diaper containment failure and happily discovers he can *play* with the contents of his diaper. [I, reportedly, was rather artistic in this regard. And enthusiastic. Sorry, Mum!]
I shouldn't be so amused that this happened on a day when I was in bed sick, leaving Aaron to deal with the clean-up. He didn't only have to clean up Benji (who had poop on his face AND the soles of his feet) but he also had to get out the q-tips and try to dig the baby poop out of the cracks in the old hardwood floor of our rental apartment.
He's my hero. But he's not amused.
No comments:
Post a Comment