Some background: Betty is finally eating food. Yay! She will actually open her mouth in anticipation of sweet potatoes or oatmeal. Also, Betty's cold finally got around to me, just in time for my dissertation defense, and now my sinuses are totally plugged. I can't smell anything. This may actually be a good thing. You can probably guess where this is going.
So this morning Betty, unbenownst to me thanks to my plugged up sniffer, filled her diaper to the brim. (Funny how that happens once a human starts ingesting food). It was the poop to end all poops.
Normally when there is a poopy diaper, I get my work station prepared in advance: cloth dipe under the baby, wipes prepared and in arm's reach, outfit carefully removed. Well, today, I didn't know what awaited me in the diaper, and so I just treated it like any old pre-nap pee pee diaper change and was totally unprepared for the mess that burst forth when I took off the dipe.
The worst part was the slapstick comedy routine that followed: Betty would stick one hand in her poop, I would clean that hand on its way to her mouth while she stuck the other hand in poop. Rinse. Repeat. I finally pinned her arms down, cleaned the source of the poop, cleaned her hands, stripped all her clothes off, stripped the cover off the changing pad, and then cleaned her again and put on fresh pj's. And then I did laundry. Betty, meanwhile, cried and cried at the indignity of it all, and who can blame her. Now she's asleep--just in time for the propane truck to come refill our tank. This is all to your benefit, dear readers, because in the future I will never even think about posting that there's nothing to post about.
While I would not have wanted to be in your shoes, your description had me laughing til I cried!
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