THAT'S NOT MEANT TO BE THERE...

Here's what happened to me today.

I was baking in the kitchen when I smelled something awry wafting from the living room.
"William, have you poo'd?" I called innocently.
"Yeah."
"Oh dear, come in here and Mummy will change you."

In walks Will, wearing poo sleeves up to his elbows on both arms. Cue alarmed shriek from me. Now I don't know about you but when I'm caught off guard I tend to walk around in circles a few times before my head actually kicks in (coincidentally this is why my husband refuses to play war games with me on the Xbox).

Finally I realise I'm after wipes and while yelling at Will to "Stay put and TOUCH NOTHING" I stumble into the living room and see the TV. Covered. In. Crap. As in the stuff was everywhere, like some horrendous festering Picasso.

I can't actually remember what my first thought was. I can say for certain that I walked around in a few more circles, called Scott to relay the story, got out my camera (pft...of course) then curled in the fetal position and rocked for a bit.

Long (painful & disgustingly smelly) story short - it took no end of baby wipes, Ajax and water to get that bad boy clean again. Thankfully kids can be washed in the shower.

Children.

Bet you're thinking your Wednesday wasn't so bad afterall huh?

Jacq

x