|Do they make these in ketchup flavor?|
So I finish bathing Bub last night and trying to savor the last few moments of recycled tubwater, when I hear the shriek from the living room:
“Oh, my GOD!”
It’s Mommy. I spring out of the tub, grab my broadsword and start to run to her aid (at least as far as she’s concerned).
“What happened?” I shout at the hallway.
“Look at what I just found on our LIVING ROOM FLOOR,” she says, getting closer to my Zen space.
She stomps into the bathroom, holding a turd. In a Kleenex. For a moment I thought she was going to throw it at me. Or at least drop it in the tub, like a nice marmot. So hostile.
“Holy guacamole, do we have rats?” I say.
“No, idiot, this came out of your son’s butt.”
“Oh my God. Our son is a rat?!”
She wasn’t in the mood. She plopped it in the toilet while shooting me some serious stinkeye, as if I had somehow planted the turd in the one place I knew she’d be sure to find it (Did I mention it was our anniversary?), while simultaneously carrying out my pre-meditated alibi of gallivanting about in a dirty, lukewarm bath. I mildly resented the implication. Plus I was a little confused.
“Well, where did it come from?” I said.
“You tell me,” she said. “I was just putting his diaper on and there it was.”
“Well, the tub is a known SPHINCTER RELAXANT. Perhaps it just fell out when you weren’t looking.”
“Well, I haven’t changed any diapers today. And, it’s hard.”
Okay, in my defense:
Our rug is brown. And patterned. It must have been like one of those 3-D pictures; I was just not physically capable of seeing the turd.
2. The light is bad in there. Great during the day, lots of sunlight. Not so much in the evening. A veritable safehaven for stowaway turds.
Ahh, turds fall out of diapers all the time. The next turd that falls out around here is gonna be you, Bender. It may have been there a couple days, who knows? Nothing to see here, just another Tuesday night. Come on over and join the party. Just watch where you step.