Todd and I took the girls to the 99 for dinner last week and the subject of poop came up. We were reminiscing about when the girls were babies and Todd brought up a story about Tori. When she was a newborn, the changing table was a microwave cart, minus the microwave, in the kitchen. Next to the table we had a water jug like this one, which we collected spare change.
One day I was changing her diaper and she pooped. If you're familiar with breastfed babies, you know what happens when they "go". It shoots out of the body at warp speed and at amazing velocity. This is what happened on this day. It sailed over the remaining length of the changing table and landed directly in the water jug. Back to last week at the 99. The table erupted with "ewwws" and "gross", but I told them that by the time the third child is born, a Mommy can eat a fudgesicle with one hand and wipe a child's butt with the other. Nothing fazes me anymore. Todd and I jokingly asked them if they would take care of us when we're very old. Bryn said, "yes - but I wll not wipe your butt." Tori said, "I will, but I'll wear an apron, rubber gloves, and a hair net." Jacey agreed to pay for our nursing home care.