Ryan Changed Jones' poopy diaper. When he was finished he left the poop filled diaper on the ground next to where he had been changing him. Seeing his mistake he quickly picked up the dirty thing and threw it away. Close one!
A few minutes later I was watching Jones play. Hmmm..."what is that in his hand?" I though. "oh a cookie. No he doesn't have cookies like that. Wait, why does he have brown playdough?...Oh my...Poop!" I scream. "Jones is Squeezing his own poop!" Jones had in his hand what looked to be a brown/orange (you know the look, when a child mixes two colors of playdough together but doesn't blend well...lots of the dark color with streaks of the light. In this situation, lots of brown with some orange. Maybe pumpkin?) ball of playdough. It wasn't a smear of poop that the had gotten. No my friends, he had in his hands a big round turd that had apparently rolled out of his diaper when his dad picked it up. And he was squeezing....just sitting there squeezing it. Needless to say it had squished between all of his fingers and it was covering his hands.
I picked him up...."Ryan, get a baby wipe...wipe it off! Wipe it off!" I yell as I grab his hand, which he is trying to put into his mouth. Ryan, being dazed and rather confused by this horrifying things that is happening (all in about 5 sec I might add), runs to the kitchen sink and somehow dumps a whole pan of water all over himself and the kitchen floor. "Ryan a baby wipe" I scream "Not a pan of water!" He got the wipes and started trying to get the wads of poop off his hands...Jones starts to scream and shake his hands, flinging balls of poop all over me. We get most of it off Jones, take off his poop covered shirt and Ry takes him in the bathroom to wash off the excess residue. Some how while in there Jones falls in the sink and soaks what little clothing he still had on. I try to clean the poop off myself, making a mental note to change my clothes as soon as I could.
Later that night Arwen and I were doing some shopping. I think we went to the mall or something. On the way home I looked down and realized I was still wearing the poop pants! Not only that, but they still had some dried poop on them! It was a low point in my life. I am cool with sleeping in pee covered sheets, but wearing my waste covered clothes in public is something I am still not use to....Oh I miss the days of not smelling like a mixture of boob milk and feces!
*I want to mention that during this situation Arwen helped my discreetly using some wipes to pick up the extra turd from the ground. Thank you Arwen.
A few minutes later I was watching Jones play. Hmmm..."what is that in his hand?" I though. "oh a cookie. No he doesn't have cookies like that. Wait, why does he have brown playdough?...Oh my...Poop!" I scream. "Jones is Squeezing his own poop!" Jones had in his hand what looked to be a brown/orange (you know the look, when a child mixes two colors of playdough together but doesn't blend well...lots of the dark color with streaks of the light. In this situation, lots of brown with some orange. Maybe pumpkin?) ball of playdough. It wasn't a smear of poop that the had gotten. No my friends, he had in his hands a big round turd that had apparently rolled out of his diaper when his dad picked it up. And he was squeezing....just sitting there squeezing it. Needless to say it had squished between all of his fingers and it was covering his hands.
I picked him up...."Ryan, get a baby wipe...wipe it off! Wipe it off!" I yell as I grab his hand, which he is trying to put into his mouth. Ryan, being dazed and rather confused by this horrifying things that is happening (all in about 5 sec I might add), runs to the kitchen sink and somehow dumps a whole pan of water all over himself and the kitchen floor. "Ryan a baby wipe" I scream "Not a pan of water!" He got the wipes and started trying to get the wads of poop off his hands...Jones starts to scream and shake his hands, flinging balls of poop all over me. We get most of it off Jones, take off his poop covered shirt and Ry takes him in the bathroom to wash off the excess residue. Some how while in there Jones falls in the sink and soaks what little clothing he still had on. I try to clean the poop off myself, making a mental note to change my clothes as soon as I could.
Later that night Arwen and I were doing some shopping. I think we went to the mall or something. On the way home I looked down and realized I was still wearing the poop pants! Not only that, but they still had some dried poop on them! It was a low point in my life. I am cool with sleeping in pee covered sheets, but wearing my waste covered clothes in public is something I am still not use to....Oh I miss the days of not smelling like a mixture of boob milk and feces!
*I want to mention that during this situation Arwen helped my discreetly using some wipes to pick up the extra turd from the ground. Thank you Arwen.
17 comments:
All of your poop and pee stories makes parenthood sound so wonderful. Can't wait.
i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.
did i say i wanted to have a baby?
I do what I can to service you, my friend. Wait... no... I don't service you... I help you around the house when you let me stay with you... that is what I mean... this was, and shall remain, the best. day. ever.
Heather Chandler: You were nothing before you met me. You were playing Barbie's with Betty Finn. You were a blue bird. You were a Brownie. You were a Girl Scout cookie. I got you into a Remington Party and what's my thanks? It's on the hallway carpet. I got paid in puke!
Veronica: Lick it up baby. Lick...it...up!
Who knows what movie this is?
Darling Andrea, never make a Heathers-related challenge when there's an old lady who went to Jr. High in the 80s in the blogmunity.
ugh. I knew it too. But that's ok.
"are you a heather?"
"no. I'm a veronica."
You know what's kind of funny/ironic? I had many a girl named Heather in my peer group, but I'd have to think long and hard to come up with one who wasn't a horrible harpy like the chicks in the movie.
That has nothing to do with squeezing ones own poop. Sorry, Jess.
I have something! In Nampa, ID, there's a burger joint called Squeezers. I always thought it was a ill-conceived name for an eating establishment, but now I'm not going to be able to drive past it without getting full-body shudders.
Did someone say "Veronica"?
I did, of course... Now I feel like you are my news team and we have assembled or something. Like no matter where I am, I only have to type your name and there you are. It's like the bat signal. It's cause we're kindred spirits, you and I...
WHAT!? RAJ POSTED AGAIN? WHAT THE CRAP IS GOING ON HERE?
Arwen, you're funny. I like how you try to lie and cheat and lie again to play games with all of us. Raj is dead. You know that! He's dead! We're dead!
Ty hasn't been blogging because he's working on his thesis, but I'm trying to keep him up to date by telling him what people have posted lately. Last night as we waited for our dinner to be ready, I told him a summarized version of this post, and he made me stop because he was getting queasy. So, congratulations! You win! Good gross-out post, Jess. My hat is off to you.
Here's the thing...in no way have I ever (that my memory serves me) been grossed out by a story about poop, pee, vomit, vaginal drippings,ect. Especially to the point of queeziness (sp? Wait, is that really a word?) Weird huh?
let me just say this: I DO NOT like it when you use the words "vaginal" and "drippings" in such close quarters. Sick.
Second, I miss you Breasty... we should be friends sometime... since we ARE in the same state and all... I think we talk more when I live in Idaho! I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss your musk... things just aren't the same around here without you...
How sewwt . . . Bye, gotta throw up now . . .
That's a great story. Waiting for more. Ohio interior designer Sportsmen's tennis club Incorporation form secrectary of state md
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