I'd been dreading the nappy changing. The thought of cleaning up after some poor child with gastric flu scared the living daylights out of me. I imagined the worst case scenario of clearing up tidal waves of sh*t armed with only a pair of rubber gloves and some wet wipes..like some sort of fecal 'Perfect Storm'. Now there's an analogy for you to chew over..
To be honest, it hasn't been that bad so far. In fact little D's liquidy pesto specials have been a lot more disturbing than anything my kids have served up so far. Friday just gone I clocked a ripe pong coming from one of the boys and thought "Oh oh. This will be a good one". Think lakes of farmyard slurry spread over the fields. It kinda smelt like that.
Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped the little blighter's nappy and observed a little offering of what looked like play-dough. Smooth...even earth tones... pretty inoffensive really. Cleaned up a treat too!
In other news, I keep catching myself speaking in the third person at work. It make's good sense as the kids are clear as to whom I'm talking about. However should it creep into home life I'll start feeling like Hulk Hogan
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| Clear up the book corner for the Hulkster, kids. OOOOOH YEAHHHH! |
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