It Happens

The picture above is Garrett. My beloved second child. What started as a typical afternoon, got strange....and very stinky. As anyone who knows him will tell you, Garrett is a pig. Not in the swine sense, but in the LOOKs like he likes to roll in the mud sense. The child came out dirty and he's stayed that way since birth. He has a typical 5 minutes each day when he's clean. That's when he first gets out of the tub and the first 2 minutes after his feet hit the floor in the morning. So I'm never surprised when he comes in the house caked in lawn mower grease, red mulch dye or with a loaded diaper that he likes to call stinkum pants.

That's exactly what I expected when he came in this afternoon and said "Mommy, I's got stinkum on my hands". Sure enough, each little hand and finger was covered in doo and it had a smell that could make paint peel. Jumping up fast as lightning, I raced him to the tub, stripped him and in the process, got the stinky all over my own self. The smell was worse than any butt I'd smelled in the nursing home, for Pete's sake. I got the diaper ripped open and SURPRISE - NO POOP. Confused, I asked the little criminal where the poop came from. That's when I heard what I didn't want to hear....

"Mommy, it's Boomer's poop." Even with the dang dog 20 minutes away in another town, Cujo Junior is STILL giving me grief. Lord, give me strength.