Mr. Burns's Revenge of the Poo..

my two month old has it out for me.

I don't know why, but I seem to be the only receiver of the "oh no, Cover it, Cover It! awww...." poops. I swear, he does it on purpose.

So I'm changing the diaper, thinking that the coast is clear, when he gives a massive grunt and a smile and this crazed almost religious glow comes into his eyes, and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you swear you can hear a deep and ominous voice crying VENGEANCE!!! and whoosh! boy can that kid project. and you know if it's comin from the back end, the front will surely follow. So this kid lays there all happy with his shit-eating grin on his face (sometimes literally) and pee all over himself, and poo all over mommy and the trail from him to me shining like the path to salvation...

I swear I've done this before. I've been a parent once already! Don't I know what I'm doing? I don't know if I was just more aware when my first one was in diapers, or if my kid really does have a price on my head. He probably consorts with his dad on the next move to crush my sanity and self-esteem.

Once, after a vigorous sneeze from him mid-change, and a shower and redress from me later (poo was everywhere.) I passed diapering and holding duties off to dad so I could escape from his clutches to grab something from the grocery store. While waiting in line to purchase my nessecities, I noticed a smell not unlike poo-cheese... I thought maybe myself or someone around me had bad breath, but I couldn't very well ask everyone to close their mouths while I weeded out the cause of the smell. It was only when I stepped up to the register and the cashier there pointed and then gave me a kleenex, did I realize that  in the midst of changing over from the poo laden clothes into cleaner ones, that somehow I must have dragged part of my stylish-yet-affordable t-shirt through the gobby mess in the laundry basket.

So My bright Blue T-shirt ( I don't know why I even think I can get away with colour. Black, girl, Black is the new whatever's going to get shit on..) had this Bright Greeny-Yellow mess leading from mid-back to upper rib-cage. And it was fresh. I can't get away from it. Back at home my son is probably losing his breath from newly formed maniacal laughter, while my poor naive husband is getting out the camera to capture baby's first laugh.

'Aww, cute', husband will say.

And in what I can only describe in my vivid imagination to be the voice of Mr. Burns, Baby's first word will be, 'Excellent'.