Yep. That's be a poo explosion. Her, not me, I swear!
I'm not gonna lie--it was like defusing a bomb getting up from that seated position without, um, leaking anything.
Classy, eh?
Dontcha just love these posts?
Especially when they come with photographic evidence?
Only the best for you people. Only the best.
Fast forward to today...we decided to have a family movie night, 'cause that seemed like a lovely Sunday evening activity (Tangled, if you're interested).
Eventually, Chicklet was on Daddy's lap on just about that exact spot on the couch.
If we were wise, we would've heeded the gas warnings. Sorta like tremors before an earthquake.
But nope.
We just laughed at the unladylike sounds without repositioning anything--or anyone.
And then the big one hit.
Yep--this is poo, people. On our very light couch:
The force of the blast rocketed the waste through diaper, onesie, swaddling blanket, and Daddy's shorts.
Almost impressive.
But not.
Luckily, I married a man who has an otherworldly ability to remove stains.
Seriously--if he were a superhero, that'd be his superpower. I don't know how he does it (if only he was responsible for our everyday laundry).
See--lookie here. Not a trace (just a little dampness in this pic, 'cause he'd just finished):
You can't even find it if you're looking. I've never loved him more :)
All joking aside--you sorta have to know if you buy a couch this color (which we love, and we'd buy it again!) and you have kids, things are gonna happen. And I'm happy to report that I kept that perspective tonight, even before I knew the stain would come out.
But I'm also happy to report that today was not the day permanent damage seeped (ewww) in.
The couch will live to see another poo (and another family movie night).
Happy Sunday, peeps!
P.S. The holiday spoiled me. I want another one! Labor Day...you can't get here fast enough!
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