This is likely a post that many parents can already relate to. Despite the potential cliche I am posting it anyway. WARNING: This post borders on too-much-information overload.
One night Kristin was feeding Carrig on the couch with Anna curled up under Carrig's legs taking an evening nap. All was going well until Carrig got a little restless. He wouldn't feed and he something was clearly wrong. His eyes went wide. The sound that followed was along the lines of 65 year old man the morning after shooting beer with prune juice chasers. Poor Anna nearly jumped out of her skin and sprung to the back of the couch. We could have heard this ass-plosion from the other end of the house. Kristin and I then looked at one another in compete horror as we realized that this diaper was put on solely by ME without QC inspection from Kristin. This stare continued for a moment as we waited for any moisture to be felt on Kristin's leg. Luckily, with quick response, this disaster was averted, Carrig's expression relaxed and he went back to feeding as if nothing had happened.
But was it the nasty black tar stuff?
ReplyDeleteThe black stuf luckily disappeared after a few days. Except for the fact that it took a spatuala to scrap it off his butt we really didn't mind it. It certainly didn't smell.
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