picture this.

it's a relaxing sunday afternoon, but now it's 6:27 p.m. you're getting dressed for work - you must be gone by 6:30, 3 minutes is enough time to change, right? the baby is wearing a onesie & cute roobie shoes & socks & climbing on your bed. you look closely...is that poop down his leg? Oh my gosh husband! grab him! he's got poop EVERYWHERE!!! you inspect the boy, and it's all over his onesie, down his leg, on his sock, and on the bottom of his shoes. not to mention, on your sheets. awesome. "this poop has to come from somewhere! it's on the bottom of his shoe, he tracked it in from somewhere else too..." so you begin on a hunt. you look all over the house and finally go to the boy's room, and there it is. like a puppy came and visited, but then left and you never saw it. the pile you never pictured could come from a baby. and on his cute striped blue rug. it's 6:33. the door bell rings. the husband is in a panic trying to get baby on the changing table to get him cleaned up. you run to the front door, it's grammy and grampy! come on in! you run back to the room and help strip the baby down, run his clothes to the basement to start washing and come back up stairs. turn on the bath. the baby MUST take a bath. it's 6:40. scrub the rug. only, it's not just on the rug. it's on some toys. you scrub the rug with carpet cleaner and scrub and scrub...then wash up, finish getting dressed. it's 6:50. you were supposed to be to work 5 minutes ago. hand the toys to husband and ask to clean because you have got to go!!!

antibiotics. that is the only answer to tearing his belly up like that. he had no complaints, he was just happy to get to take a bath. talk about a chaotic moment. it really reminds me that i don't need a puppy right now...sadly enough...