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Last week I talked to the Tiny Little’s mom about starting her on table food. She’s pretty much ready and her teeth are moving in so why not get her going on the deliciousness that we adults are enjoying?!

Big.fucking.mistake.

The Tiny Little came into daycare and exploded all over us. I went to get her out of the crib and as a routine check I put my nose to her butt to see if she had pooped. As soon as my nose arrived at its destination she farted. Right in my face. Farted. While my nose was touching her diaper. Farted. In my fucking face!!! I felt the blast blow my hair back for god’s sake!

It was traumatizing.

So I put the little tooter down and watched her play. Every five minutes she would rip these huge farts you could hear in China. She had this grey cloud of doom following her around the play area. I could practically see the stink waves coming off her and hovering, waiting to get us all.

Poor Lola kept freaking out and sprinting around the housing barking like a maniac. She couldn’t figure out what the noise was but it needed to die.

I asked mom what she had fed this Tiny Little that was making her insides rot and kill us all. She very hesitantly told me mashed potatoes…..with gravy.

SON OF A BITCH!!! I guess that’s my fault. I obviously should have clarified the definition of table food for babies. There is only one rule to follow for the first few weeks of eating adult food other than the pureed vegetables and fruits this kid had previously eaten:

No sauces. It’s a pretty simple rule but I seemed to have forgotten that most people haven’t raised hundreds of kids in the last 12 years, like I have. Sauce makes a baby’s insides liquify into a putrid, waste-laying, nuclear bomb intent on destroying the noses and tear ducts of everyone in its path.

The Big Little climbed into the tent, I heard what sounded like a train rolling out the Tiny’s rear end, and the Big came bolting out of that tent like his pants were on fire. It was hysterical to watch him wave a hand in front of his face to try to get some oxygen. I laughed so hard that I cried. Some of those tears may have been from the noxious fumes that were filling the air.

At one point the Tiny Little ripped a fart that was so terrible the Big Little gagged. He gagged! A baby made an 18 month old gag with the smell of her digestive system. That’s impressive considering kids are at adult ass level and probably get hit pretty often with outrageous smells.

I was consoling myself with the fact that the Tiny Little was suffering as bad as the Big Little and I were. She farted while crawling and as she sat back to figure out what she had heard the cloud of fumes engulfed her. She screwed up her face and looked around, trying to figure out what the hell was happening to her. I have never seen a baby that young react to a horrible smell.

And then the poop started….and basically never ended.

It’s been three days. There are still massive amounts of the worst poops I’ve ever seen. She’s still farting like a drunken sailor hopped up on jalapeño poppers. I can no longer smell anything and I fear the Big Little is going to sue me for permanent nasal damage due to daycare pollution.

I wonder if my insurance covers nasal burning due to farts?!

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