Little Man has apparently decided to take a breather from popping new teeth. Poor kid gets constipated whenever he teeths. This past week he's been anything but. Talk about a cleansing. I haven't used diaper cream on him in the longest time and now I am getting ready to buy stock in the maker of Triple Paste.
I've been lucky since day one with this kid. He was never one to spit up and his blow outs were rare if not ill-timed. Husband is away on a business trip. You go like mad the night before to make sure everything is ready to go but you still end up running late. You are just about to walk out the door when the child decides to have a blow-out, ruining either your freshly washed sheets or worse - your only ironed outfit.
We get back from the park today. I am cooking dinner and realize its probably been a tad too long since Little Man's last diaper change so I ask my husband if he would be so kind. It doesn't take long before I get the "Oh, oh, I need help. A little help here!" Yup, we have a blow-out and with Little Man's squirming it will definitely take 4 hands to keep it from turning into abstract art all over the rug. The kicker? He's wearing a onesie that says: Red Sox shirt. Yankees diaper.
"Figures. They can't handle shit".
No comments:
Post a Comment