Stacia and I are watching T.V. last week. I hear her say, "Uh oh." Oh no. Uh oh, what? I ask. She lifts up our little girl off her lap to reveal a wet spot on her jeans. Cleo leaked. What's so horrible about that? "No, look at her back," Stacia says. The back of Cleo's onesie is covered in what looks like chocolate pudding, but I know that's not what it is. It's coming from the inside, from out of her diaper. Oh Jesus. I want nothing to do with that catastrophe. "I need you to hold her hands so she doesn't trash her arms into it," Stacia says. Oh God. As I'm holding her hands, Stacia takes apart the diaper. A steamy, beef-stew-pudding concoction is revealed. It strings from her stomach to the diaper. I gag. Then I catch a whiff. I gag again, and then, Oh no. I almost puke. On the dog. Stacia starts cleaning it off Cleo's butt, but it's too much, and this is when I realize, somehow, Cleo has it on the sleeve of her onesie. So Stacia decides to stop wiping (20 wipes later) and give her a bath. How to get the onesie off without smearing it on Cleo's face? Stacia and I come up with the same idea at the same time...
...we cut the onsie off, ER style.
4 comments:
My friends, you are brave brave brave. And, I think this also proves, better people than me. Cleo is adorable and I am so glad she has fantastic parents so in love with her that they are willing not only to problem solve about how to clean her shit up without getting it on her face, but also to write blog posts about it which are funny enough to make me laugh out loud.
xo
c
That's hilarious! Stella manages to have a pretty major "blow out" like that every other day or so. The girl is a prodigious pooper. We've even come up with a 5 star rating system, to help quantify the carnage. But, we've never had to use an ER tactics yet. So, you'e got us there!
That is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
GG Gordon and I laughed our fannies off at this elaborate dissertation on Cleo's crapfest. There is something worse - that's when curiosity about "what's in my diaper?"
and "what does it feel like?" manifests itself into a finger painting, the likes of which is far more stunning than what you've just experienced. ER can't even get you out of that one.
Love you all.
GG Gwen
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