Tuesday, March 8, 2011


I really hope that whatever The Rock Star has is not contagious. See, I'm flying on Friday and airplane diarrhea is, like, my biggest irrational fear. Except it is so not irrational because, well, can you even imagine? And I'm speaking at a conference in southern California on Saturday and conference diarrhea really doesn't sound like fun. At all. So here's to hoping it was something he ate. Like the prunes he had for lunch yesterday or the refried beans he had for dinner. Yeah. Like that.

This morning Troy left early for a meeting and, just as soon as he'd left, The Rock Star started in with the running poop. Yes. This is yet another poop story. I'm fairly certain that as soon as he learns how to read, my son will veto any and all fecal tales from being shared with the world wide web. But for now....muahahahaha! (Insert best villain laugh. Embellish. Make it worthy. In actuality I'm terrible at sound effects.)

After several rounds of him pooping and me wiping--he's perfectly capable of doing the dirty work himself but refuses any and every time it is runny--he started to complain that it hurt. I busted out the baby wipes. Apparently whatever they put in those things burns like crazy because he started bawling.

I switched to hosing him off in the shower. So, there we were. Him on his knees with his posterior facing me and me holding the removable shower nozzle. "Garrett, can you spread your cheeks for me." Because I just don't think of how these things will sound later. On my blog. Typed out. As I sprayed water in the general direction of his hiney, nothing happened. "Garrett, use your hands and spread your cheeks." Nothing. "Garrett! I need you to use your hands and spread your cheeks," I said, accenting each and every word.

"I am!" He said, exasperated. As I stared into his tail end I suddenly realized that at the other end he was using his hands to pull his cheeks--the ones on his face--as wide as he possibly could. I'm certain that he was completely confused as to why he had to yank his face apart while I took care of his sore bottom. I could absolutely not stop laughing hysterically.


  1. I needed that laugh. And it makes me feel a teeny bit better that I'm not the only one dealing with copious amounts of child poop today!

  2. Poor thing! Wipes have alcohol in them... so yeah, they sting! Try wet paper towels, or wet washcloths, or gauze (if you have lots of gauze at your house). And then there is the diaper rash cream that will protect his little bummy from future bouts. Poor guy!

    I was laughing out loud reading this!

  3. I am home alone and you know I laughed hysterically when you called and told me this story. I laughed when I called Dad and Grandpa and repeated the story. I laughed when I read this post and I keep finding myself smiling and chuckling throughout the day. Poor Rock Star.....but, oh how funny the story truly is. He must have been thinking, "What, is the poop going to get washed up and out?"

  4. one of the funniest things I have read in a long time! I am crying!! :) HAhAHAHAHAhAAA

  5. Man I love your blog. Pack extra clothes and a whole pkg of wipes (hand sanitizer?) for the plane ride so you DON'T have another story to tell!!

  6. This is an amazing story.
    I bet you can't wait to tell it to Garrett's future wife & kids (not to grow you kiddo up too fast).

  7. I found this blog quite by accident, you do not know me however I wanted to tell you how much I love reading about your family. You are very talented and tell a great story. I laughed hysterically as I could picture this whole ordeal playing out (I have 3 kids of my own).

    Thanks for sharing =)

  8. OH man! He's gonna love reading this some day.