Point: Farrah

So, I’m heading out of town for Thanksgiving. Therefore, this will be a light week for posting. But before I go, I’d like to share a little story with you…

I was at my parent’s house this past weekend celebrating my dad’s 77th birthday. I was all snuggled up on the couch with my niece Farrah. We were gazing in each others eyes having a deep bonding moment and just blissed out. Isn’t it amazing how comfortable and sweet it is to lock eyes with a baby? They’re still at that age when looking each other in the eye for minutes at a time isn’t awkward or odd. It’s pretty cool.

Anyway, she had just finished eating and I knew that she’d be taking care of some big business any minute – that breast milk, it’s like poop through a goose. So when the familiar vibration on my thigh and the accompanying sound occurred, I was ready for it. I wasn’t ready for what happened about five minutes later. See, this was some BIG business.

So we sat for a bit longer as I was sure she wasn’t done. Around the time she started getting fussy like, “Yo, woman. I’m sitting in poop here. Help a girl out, would ya?” I started to notice how warm my leg was. So I slipped my hand under her rump and felt a REALLY full diaper. So I stood up to go change her.

“WHOA! It’s leaking up her back!” Was the response from my sister. That comment quickly mobilized four adults into frantic action. We set up a changing area and got to work. It was clear we were in the midst of a blow-out, but we had no clue what awaited us.

Tony (Farrah’s pop) pulled off her pants and unbuttoned her onesie and grabbed her by the ankles to lift her butt up and then it became clear what we were dealing with. There she sat in a P-U-D-D-L-E of mustard colored poop.

I wish we had been video tapping this. Imagine four adults leaning in at the same time, faces twisted in curiosity. Then picture all four adults raising up on their haunches and recoiling at precisely the same time. We all scattered like ants from a flame each exclaiming some form of “OH MY GOD!”

That’s when Farrah started to get upset. So I reassured her she’d done a good job and made such a nice big poop while the other three hatched a plan. We even considered just cutting the onesie off of her at some point.

Ultimately, the situation required a bath, some serious scrubbing of fabric, a mess of Shout, and two cycles through the washing machine but that onesie made it, people. Tony is a laundry god and is now dubbed “The poo doctor.”

All of us agreed a blow-out of such epic proportions had never been seen before. Point: Farrah.

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2 Comments

  1. Best moment ~ from Tony: “pull up my sleeves. I’m going in!”

    Reply

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