Saturday morning we made a big family style breakfast. The kids finished before Dan & I got to eat (of course, right?)… so they were playing, running around and riding their trucks.
Dan and I fixed our separate plates and I was diving into a magazine and Dan took his plate over to the computer.
Suddenly I heard Dan yell “WOOOOOW! WAIT FELLAS… WHAT is THAT?!” And, I look over… and Dan is horrified and claiming that poop is on the floor?
WHAT?! GROSS!
So… I run over… we’re both laughing… and there’s little Matt… sitting on his dump truck (how appropriate) and pushing it along like nothing happened. Since the poop trail was in his path… we made the correct assumption that it was his. Three lovely poop chunks somehow escaped the kids diaper… wiggled down his leg and plopped onto the floor. Gross… gross… gross.
We can only assume it was a result of the thong diaper he was wearing (thanks to his daddy’s doing). Gotta put those diapers on proper, daddies!
THANKFULLY… his brother did not find it before Dan. I can only IMAGINE what would have resulted from that.
Again. Gross.
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