It’s not so much the hating the changing of poo diapers or poo stink or any of that, but god forbid if I have to touch actual poo. Why would I have to touch poo you ask? Well… it’s fuggin hot here. I hate to be hot and Sweaty Teddy my son is a water baby. So being the ever awesome mom that I am I went out and bought one of those wiggly sprinklers. Ok, more that I stole the idea from Wendy… but hey, I’m tired and hot. I’m thinking this is going to be great. The boy likes water, it’s hot, and he can run around in the water and get worn out. What could possibly go wrong? Oh that’s right. I started this with poo.
We get home from running our errands and I decide that the boy can just wear his swim trunks sans swimmer diaper. We are at home. If he pees it won’t be a big deal. He pooed this morning. It’s all good. A while later I notice that the boy is kinda standing in one spot. I try to get him to run through the sprinkler and he kinda freaks out. Ok, I don’t like being shot in the face with the water either. I give him the benefit of the doubt. Until I realize that there could be more to this than meets the eye. I do as usual and feel his butt for evidence of poo action. Only this time I’m dumb and forget that he doesn’t have on a diaper. Sprinkler + little boy poo + no diaper = wet soggy poo. Graphic? Not nearly enough. Lest you forget that little boy swim trunks have in the built in “underwear.” Yeah, mesh. Add that to the equation, oh and don’t forget extraction of boy from the soiled swim trunks and clean-up thereafter. I’m still washing my hands.
Gah! I hate poo.