Molto Merde

Yesterday was a day dominated by scatological upheaval.  The planets had finally lined up to the point where we felt comfortable going to lunch, then bringing the new baby by my workplace to satiate the insatiable baby zealots.  Predictably enough, the baby needed to be changed soon after our arrival, so while we waited to be served my wife took Abby to the ladies room.  Fifteen minutes later, after our food had arrived, Angela returned – visibly shaken and heavily soiled by… something.  It turns out little Abby gave Angela a high velocity poop facial in the process of being changed – Angela’s face, hair and shirt were all victimized.  Our official designation as “experienced parents” was validated by the fact that we elected to stay and eat, despite the fact that one of us had hair and eyebrows full of poop.  We did, however, forgo the office visit.Later, when we returned home, we discovered that the dog had pooped in the house as well.  On top of that, Abby’s older sister  had filled her diaper to the point that poop had travelled up her back, soiled her hair, and leaked out in substantial enough proportions to soil her overcoat as well.A poopy day to be sure.  We learned never to take for granted the good will of the natural functions gods.  Each day of a neatly contained diaper and rectal firehose avoidance is one to be cherished. 


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