Imagine this: you are walking past your son's bedroom door as he is waking up from his afternoon nap. You hear his sweet little voice talking to his stuffed animals and the word "rocks" catches your attention. As you open the door you are greeted with eau de poopy diaper. You then proceed to open his windows to air the room out. The sweet little voice is still talking sleepily, and again mentions "rocks". At this point you have reached his crib and God help you- are greeted with this:
You guessed it. Austin's "rocks" were actually poo.
Poo that was E V E R Y W H E R E.
Even smeared on his nose.
I am so glad I have a strong stomach.
And that Austin didn't touch my face as I carried him to the bathroom.
3 comments:
Eeeewwwwww!
My uncle handed my grandmother a "tootsie roll" when he was about two. I'll give you one guess as to what it really was...
N-A-S-T-E-E. Mother of the year award - yeah - that's you.
and the Chafin's will be waiting a few more (5-10) years before they have a baby :)
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