June 24, 2016
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This just has to be documented for what I desperately hope isn’t the beginning of many more similar tales, but I suspect this will be old hat soon…sigh.
My husband is wonderful, entertaining our two-year-old little man for almost the entire day while I tended to the Warrior Queen, which amounted to feeding her and lounging on the sofa with a sprawled infant on my chest. I even managed to eat lunch vaguely within the lunch hour realm. Consequently, tonight I was in charge of Mr. Man’s bedtime routine.
My son was on my lap brushing his teeth before I took over when I noticed the entire front of his shorts were wet. Great sleuth I am assumed correctly it was urine. Well, that’s a puzzle. I check his diaper, and half of it is unattached. That is also a puzzle. Then I notice brown crust on his lower leg, yup, poop. That was the final puzzle prompting me to call downstairs to my husband asking why there was poop on our son’s leg. Our house hollering virtually overlapped with my husband indicating that our son had excavated poop out of his diaper and threw it on the floor in front of the family room book shelf. I was sitting all evening in that very room, so how craptastic at parenting am I that I was oblivious to my son engaging in a fecal drop ‘n’ roll in front of me? Perhaps some questions are best left unanswered.