Today he spit up all over my tits. My boobs were not happy to have their milk rudely given back.
One early morning at 2 a.m. I was woken up by Baby. I fed him and then politely set him on the changing table to get down to business. Baby was farting and pooping the whole time I was feeding him so I was not excited to discover what awaited me in his diaper.
I slowly peeled back the Velcro fasteners and opened one eye to assess the damage.
There lay a small round puddle of baby turd.
I began wiping up only to notice baby's face turning bright red. Squeezing his eyes in extreme concentration he let out a labored grunt. The next thing I knew, everything in a 3 foot radius was splattered with grainy baby poop.
I yelled out to Jared, HELP! HELP!
He woke up and hurried to my aid. He diapered Baby up and changed his poo/pee drenched clothing.
I surveyed the explosion.
I had no idea that baby was actually an elite pastry chef in his former life.
Dollops of feces frosting coated the changing table and bed. He had embellished the bed spread with intricate rosebuds every few inches. The array of squirt lines were crisp and professional. He was a master decorator with the piping bag, only instead of the piping bag he used his butt.
amen.
