Nap time. The Littles have finally gone down and Ms. Heather is ready to do all the fun things she can while they sleep.
Like learn the harpsichord, develop a game of intergalactic domination never before seen on this scale, work on the properties of an atom bomb. You know, just basic killing time activities.
So as I’m trolling around Wikipedia I hear this loud jet engine go off near me. I could hear it clear across the room without my hearing aids!
So I go over to The Littles and smell something I know will lead to a slight downgrade on my happiness scale. Poop.
I check the littlest Little and sure enough, the smell is emanating from her.
I get supplies, open the diaper and there, just in front of me, is fossil evidence of a baby shart.
And obviously it would be inappropriate of me to ask her if she sharted so I just ask her if her fart went wrong and proceed to change her.
I get her back in her crib and as I’m walking away I hear it again.
My god, she must hate me today…
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