I've been storing bottled fruit under the crib in Enzo's room. Turns out, that was a mistake.
I guess the real mistake was getting a bottle out while he was watching. That happened a month or two ago and since then he'll occasionally bring me a bottle. I tell him "no," and put the bottle away and that's is for a few weeks when he brings another bottle.
From what Zizza tells me, today he got out a full dozen and stacked a few like blocks.
Want to hear the best part of this story? I got the peach mess under control and when back to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. While I was thus occupied, Enzo pooped his pants, reached in and grabbed a handful and came down stairs to give his pop a welcome home hug.
The poo-hug was well appreciated you can be sure.
I don't think I would have survived these shining moments had my Mr. arrived home any later.
4 comments:
This is so (sad albeit) hilarious!! But I am so glad it wasn't me. :) I love hugs, but poo hugs I am pretty sure I'd hate.
Wow... I suddenly don't feel quite so bad about being peed on yesterday.
Just goes to show, there is always someone who is worse off than yourself (and by "yourself", I mean me).
I guess you didn't get to see me drag the boy into our bathroom and hose him off in the bathtub. He didn't like that too much, but it was a little therapeutic for me.
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