Screw You, Mom, and Other Triple P Adventures.

I guess EK was pissed at me after I blogged about her photo session antics yesterday. She definitely made me pay.

It all started in a nice warm bubble bath together. Never trust a toddler in the bath tub. They tend to poop. When they do, it's gross. It's even more gross when you're relaxing, and all of a sudden your water reeks and turns a nice yellow-brown.

 I fly out of the tub and start drying off as quickly as I can, so I can get EK out of her turd bath. The next thing I know, she's got one in her hand and is eyeing it lovingly, like she would her favorite candy bar. Oh, and she's sitting on another turd. I grabbed the turd and ran it to the toilet. This was a 9.9 on a 10 point scale of stinky crap. On the way to the toilet, I puke. Eww. Whatever.

I still need to get my turdling toddler out of the bath, so I suck it up and get EK out. She's all happy, happy, happy, and I'm all, 'Oh, lord I have to fish out four more stinky turds from the tub, AND THEN clean up my own vomit."  EK sees me getting a huge wad of toilet paper to grab the turds, and plays with the TP while I'm collecting.

She's laughing hysterically. SHE'S PEEING IN THE FLOOR. SHE'S RUNNING AND PEEING IN THE FLOOR. She slips, right into the puke.

It's just not the holidays without someone throwing up.
So, what do you do when your baby is covered in a Triple "P" mixture, and there are turds in your bath tub?

If you're me, you laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Oh, and curse your husband for working nights during this turd adventure. Then, you have a nice glass of wine.