So, two weeks ago Clay was sitting in my lap “chatting” away with me when I heard him fill his diaper (judging by the smile that stretched across his face after this occurrence, he was very proud of his handy work). Well, I let him sit there for a few minutes to make sure that he was finished with his business. We kept talking and laughing, and then it hit me – Clay was probably laughing because he realized what Mommy hadn’t, his mess was coming out the side of his diaper and was all over Mommy’s jeans, arms, shirt and stomach. I try to hand him off to Jim but realize there’s no point in both of us getting messy (and by now, the “mess” is running down the front of my jeans) so Clay and I go racing back to the changing table. I start taking off Clay’s onesie (he’s just lying there smiling and laughing) and holler for Jim, mess is now all over the front of the changing table from where I accidentally leaned against it and I am getting concerned that the mess is going to drip on the carpet.

Jim tells me he’s coming to help. How does help? By documenting the drama – he’s managed to grab the all important camera and is taking pictures of my jeans saying, “Wow, it looks even worse on the camera” – I’m asking why we’re doing pictorial of this event as I can’t think of a single person that would want to look at the malodorous ooze that’s “embellished” my jeans. I start to ask Jim to take over cleaning up Clay (I’m thinking I’m covered to a point where if I try to bathe him, we’ll just be passing it back and forth) and realize, that Jim probably can’t help seeing as how he’s laughing, saying he might throw up. So, Jim instead gets to work at getting me out of my clothes so that I’ll stop “painting” the front of the changing table with poo. It was about this time that I decide that cute gladiator sandals with three buckles on each shoe aren’t so fantastic when you’re trying to get out of your shoes so you can get out of your clothes so that you can wash off the poo that is on you.

At this point, Clay is pretty much clean enough to take a bath and I’m just talking to him while I wait for Jim to finish getting my shoes off so that I can hop in the shower while Jim gives Clay a bath. Of course, Clay then decides to play rain bird and pees all everywhere – again eliciting a big grin. Then enters one wide eyed kitty who is all geeked out because he’s been playing with a mousey toy. He unintentionally gets in on the action by sputtering across the pee splattered floor and promptly tracks stuff up and down the hallway (did I mention that Maria came to clean yesterday). It is just about this time that I realize, hmmmm I’m totally out numbered in this house with boys who think bodily fluids are funny, should be tracked through the house, laughed at, and should also be the subject of numerous scrap book spreads…. And I realize, I wouldn’t have it any other way (well, I might opt not to be covered in what is now dried poo but hey, I’ve got a shower so that was easily remedied!)