Poop or chocolate? - A postlude

So. Baby poop gets grosser when they start eating solid food. But we won't go into that... or maybe we will. This weekend we experienced a truly epic poop. A pooptastic poonami. A Hazmat worthy event. Even better? It wasn't even at our own house, on our own furniture.
While visiting my brother, Jeff was sitting in their armchair holding Beck who just happened to be wearing just a long sleeve onesie and no pants. Because, well, we all need some pants-less time. It just feels good. Honestly every time I take off the footies in his jammies he instantly grabs his feet like he forgot they existed, he clearly needed some time to be less clothed. So Jeff smells something foul and thinks "I should probably change the little guy" and then... all poop broke loose. Seriously, down his arm, down Bean's leg, Jeff's shirt, pants the chair down the side of the chair onto the wood frame beneath. It was awe inspiring. How did someone so small create that much grossness? It wasn't just a little stain or a drip. It. Was. A. Lot. Of. Poop. Think, well, a whole can of re-fried beans. You can thank me for that mental image when you see me. All of the sudden everyone is running around, all the towels came out, all the sinks were a-flowing as towels, cushions, clothes, and baby were washed and re-washed. Beck was happy as can be with all the attention as we carried him around for a while at arms length, peeled of the compromised diaper and shamed onesie and stuck the stinky Bean in the kitchen sink (not before spraying down the little guy with the spray nozzle thingy). It was insane. We scrubbed down the chair, and then scrubbed it down again.
Lesson learned? Only buy leather furniture. That chair will never be the same.


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