I was sitting down to feed Bobby on Tuesday afternoon, after making it to Kate's new orthodontist appointment. Remember how I failed at the first one? Anyway,... I sat down, got the baby situated on my lap and he went to town on his bottle. Perhaps I was lulled into relaxation with his rhythmic slurp, sigh, slurp, sigh, slurp, sigh -- or my brain was numbed by some ridiculously inane article I found to read online about a Hollywood "wanna-be-somebody." I was instantly snapped back to reality with all the ruckus coming from Bobby's general direction It was the mother of all BMs, which he expelled with such force, it shot out the side of his diaper and into my lap.
Tap, tap, tap. Is this thing on?
Did you hear what I said, people? Shot. Out. The. Diaper. Into. My. Lap.
All the while, Bobby's just sort of got this relaxed, ho-hum, just-another-day-in-my-life look on his face. Slurp, sigh, slurp, sigh, slurp, sigh...
The carnage: one large bath towel, my shorts, baby blanket, romper, wash cloth, diaper, too many wipes to count.
Welcome home, Mama!