Two days ago, I arrived home in the evening. Pulled Baby Z out of the car like any normal day. And then it happened. I felt the warm squish against my skin and froze. Gross. And then I smelled it. Ick. And then I looked down. Yep. Poots. All over my hands. On this particular day there was poots on my hands, on my arms and a big hershey kiss left on my shirt. Husband was not home...thank you love! So my hands were covered in poots, I was carrying my purse and the diaper and bag, a baby dripping with poots and somehow needed to get in the house and shut the garage door. I was so thankful for the boy! He was a champ! He helped me get in the house, got a towel and washcloth for Baby Z and a big ziploc so I had a place to dispose of the mess...making faces and gag noises the whole time...but at least he helped :)
The poots was everywhere. Awesome.
So I got him cleaned up. Bathed. Clothes rinsed out...which in and of itself is a spectacular task. The chunks run down the drain and you feel yourself gagging...just trying to hold it together. Then I got myself cleaned up and both boys in bed...an hour and a half after we got home. Exhasuting.
So...last night. I arrived home and pulled Baby Z out of the car like any normal day. This time I was more cautious. The memory of the previous evening was still lingering in my brain. So I carefully lifted him out of the car. This time I smelled it first. And then I felt it. Ugh. Seriously? Two nights in a row? Two poots nights in a row...and both of them without the husband? How does he get so lucky? And tonight...the boy stayed with his daddy. So...no help at all. Awesome. Poots everywhere. Again. And tonight...it was all in the car seat too. So I did what any good wife would do. I decided that I would leave the cleaning of the car seat for my love. I wouldn't want to rob him the opportunity to bless my life. You're welcome husband :)
So...I got baby Z cleaned up. Again. It was fantastically gross. And smelly.
Off to eat lunch! :)