So, I’ll preface this post by saying I am pretty ritualistic about handling certain baby situations. I have ‘my’ way of doing things—this way has evolved from experience.

e.g.: Poopy diapers

I always set up the diaper and pull out three wipes– I get in a position where I can contain/control the situation to avoid things like Bunny rolling over, putting her hands in the poo, things of that nature. DH has more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants type of style where he just dives in to the shit without staging his equipment. This usually results in chaos and a panic-stricken yell “Will you come help me, please? Here—take this…” and something gross is handed to me.

Tonight was no exception. He hollered and I came running. We were in POO-CON 3 and it was not looking good. I’m not usually one to describe excrement, but to get the full impact of the situation you must know that we were dealing with very sticky bunny-like turds and to compound the grossness, there was corn involved. I will leave it there. I’ve already said too much.

As usual, I was on disposal duty so I made a beeline for the commode and DH cleaned up our girl. I get back to what I was doing in the kitchen and they go back to watching the new Indiana Jones movie (which may possibly have been the cause of the monster BM, as sadly, it was pure shit) all was right in the universe again…

Until it wasn’t.

I hear DH, “What are you playing with? Is that?? Oh my God! She has shit all over her!” And she did. My poor baby had sticky bunny shit all over her hands, face, in her ear…it was SO gross but all I could do was laugh and say something about Braveheart.

I am a bad mom.**hangs head**

DH grabs her hands and I start doing the best I can with wet-wipes – not the least bit effective. The sad thing is, she is so damn mad that we are taking away her new toys. She was yelling and trying to grab at the poo I was taking away from her. Finally, we stripped her down and he put her in the tub. And there I was, left to clean up the remnants of poo on the carpet…all the while I am thinking how the fuck did this happen? I can see a renegade nugget getting off the reservation, but she must have had a handful of it! Why won’t guys just SLOW DOWN and do things like a normal person (read: why the eff won’t he do it my way???)? I hope he learned his lesson from this sufficiently traumatizing event. Who knows?

I’ll tell you what I do know—my girl does a mean William Wallace.