remembering, con'td.

Just got finished giving an emergency bath. Sitting here at the computer, I hear a little voice from behind me say, "What dat, Mommy?" Upon further inspection, I see something strongly resembling a pile of chocolate pudding on the kitchen floor. Knowing that I don't have any chocolate pudding in the house, but wishing that I did; I quickly jumped up to take a closer look.

Approximately 1/4 to 1/2 a cup of poopie in pile form somehow found itself on my kitchen floor.

Again, knowing for certain there is no chocolate pudding in the house and that I hadn't just relieved myself; for I felt no relief, I quickly made the assumption (cuz' I'm shmart like that) we'd had an Official Diaper Release. Not only had we had an ODR, but there had been entire Thigh to Foot Smearage. The worst kind.

Further investigation found that prior to the sweet voice asking the aforementioned question, there appeared to have been some 'pokeage'.
The index finger of the right hand had been used (best poking finger, obviously, as evidenced by it's priority use as Nose Picker).
Hence the emergency bath. Oh, the joys of Motherhood. Guess the question, "what dat, mommy?" is never something you really want to hear.
But, all clean and sweet smelling again now. Both of us.

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