I had a fantastic, brilliant idea for today’s blog post. It would have been great, too. Unfortunately I changed my daughter’s diaper prior to sitting down to work on it, and she promptly shat all over me in a flatulent shotgun-blast of baby poo that not only violated my very being but required a judicious amount of mouthwash as well.
I have since completely forgotten what I was going to write about.
I know I’ve done the whole baby poop discussion before, but last night’s baby bowel movement was beyond the pale, considering I caught a hot load of spicy brown mustard analogue right on the god damned chin. I don’t remember much after that; I just know that I ended up in the bathroom, shirtless and with a generous mouthful of Listerine burning my taste buds into oblivion. I’ve never been quite so grateful for the purifying fire that is an alcohol-based mouthwash.
I’m going to have to install a sneeze guard over our changing table. At this point i’s the only way to protect my sanity.