Jon and I were finally christened. Not by pee, mind you, although we've experienced the firehose several times. As it were, Jordan has quite the range when it comes to poop.
They don't tell you that newborn poop is really watery and yellow. That sh** stains. And had somebody told us that, I'm sure we would be constantly wearing plastic body suits. But que sera, sera.
The first incident happened while we were all contently watching Project Runway the other night. I had missed the premiere but fortunately there was rerun, so I wasn't about to miss a minute. Well, that's what I get for putting off changing Jordan's diaper, because next thing I know, just as Heidi was about to announce who's out, I hear an explosive poot come out of Jordan's nether regions. Jon and I looked at each other incredulously (how could such a tiny being make such a huge noise?!) and next thing I knew, I felt something warm running down my leg. Equally repulsed and in awe, I realized Jordan's poop had shot out of his diaper and propelled itself a good inch or two onto my leg. He almost seemed pleased with himself.
The second incident happened to Jon today. Again, we were both contently watching tv, when again, we hear the explosion come out of his diaper. When I say explosion, I'm talking Fourth of July fireworks out his butt. And after each time, I swear I see him smirking.
Poor Jon got hit on his shorts but this time, he wasn't taking any prisoners. He immediately stripped bubby (that's my nickname for Jordan, btw) down and drew a bath. Take that, pooper!
You know what they say--s**t happens! We just didn't expect to be wearing it all the time.
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1 comment:
Hahaha! Thanks for telling it like it is! This is what I love about you... and forget the plastic suits, I think you're going to need one of those grandma plastic couch covers... if that sh*t stains, you gotta protect the goods!
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