Tag: gross

Keepin’ it real

This afternoon, I was sitting on the couch with Analie on my lap reading The Laughing Dragon, which is my favorite childhood story book of all time, when I heard a very strange sound.

It was rude, actually.

She was making horrific tooting sounds, and they smelled just as bad as they sounded.

I told her we’d just keep reading about Hojo until she finished her bidness and then, suddenly, I noticed that not only were things rotten in the state of Indiana, but Analie’s onesie was slowly getting wetter and wetter in the front.  It was…SO gross.

In my haste to get up and change her, The Laughing Dragon fell to the floor, half finished.

With some difficulty, I managed to extract Analie’s “Daddy’s Girl” onesie off her and only got poo smeared all over her arm.  I considered this to be a small victory considering how much poo was on the onesie in proportion to the size of Analie’s body.

She lay on the changing table freshly diapered, cooing, smiling, kicking, and wiggling happily.

SO CUTE.

Because of the massive blowout and poo smear on her arm, it was necessary to bathe the baby as part of cleanup.  She isn’t the biggest fan of baths, but every time it gets a little bit better.  (I’ve figured out that she likes ‘em very warm.)  I dressed her in a onesie and an infant gown and just then, Daddy got home.

We never did get to finish the story about Hojo.

Later, after we had dinner, she started spitting up on Joey.  First she nailed his black dress shirt, then she soaked his t-shirt, and her infant gown.  Joey took off the infant gown and, once again, she was down to just wearing a onesie.  Then, she spit up all over Joey’s chest.  But fortunately he wasn’t wearing a shirt this time and he could just wipe himself up with her cute “Love You” burp cloth.

She’s finishing up her second course of dinner now, and it’ll be interesting to see how many times she spits up this time.

 

Author name:
Discussion:
1 Comment

Sometimes having a vivid imagination is a real kick in the pants

This morning, I was running late (naturally, and now that I write this I’m running even later) so I rushed through my morning routine.  I finished up my shower and was applying the 17 layers of moisturizers and toners to my face (which…none of them work, ever) when I realized the toilet paper roll was just about killed.

I was the last person in the bathroom, so I could just hear Joey crowing from the bathroom later that I had killed it earlier without filling it.  So I stopped my moisturizer application and dug out a roll of TP and set it on the counter.  I always get really nervous changing the roll of toilet paper, because that boingy thing that holds the roll makes me uncomfortable.  I hate it when it breaks apart because I always get the shivers that the spring part is going to go shooting off and land in the toilet.

Maybe this doesn’t bother anyone in the world except for me. And if that’s the case, I understand.

Anyway, I was changing the roll (with great care) and keeping my eye on the toilet just in case the spring went flying over there, when I noticed a spider spinning its web on the inside of the toilet.

“THERE IS A SPIDER MAKING ITS WEB ON THE TOILET,” I yelled to Joey.  I always prefer it if he saves me from insects and arachnids.

“You’ll probably be fine,” he hollered back.

Then, just as he said that, the spider fell off its web and into the water.

“HE HAS FALLEN INTO THE WATER AND DIED!” I yelled again.

“See, I told you it would be OK,” replied Joey.

Then I went back to moisturizer application.  And my imagination started working overtime.

I imagined the tiny spider hit the water, and instead of dying, it turned into this huge, hairy tarantula and came climbing out of the toilet and was like 2 feet wide and 1 foot fall, and it was coming quickly across the bathroom floor towards me, to eat me and kill me.  Probably not in that order, actually.  He’d probably kill me first.

I’m sure you can understand how being in the bathroom made me feel very nervous after that, and I kept sending sideways glances at the toilet, just to make sure that no tarantulas were climbing out of it.

Now you all probably think I’ve truly lost my last marble.

But my hair is still soaking wet, massively curly, and in my face right now.  So I have to go suck it up enough to go back in the bathroom.  Maybe if I imagine that the floor is covered in Tarantula RAID and it will die when it touches it?

I really shot myself in the foot on this one.

Author name:
Discussion:
No Comments
Newer entries
Older entries