I love Ashlynn. I really do. Do I love what comes out of her ass some days? Oh hell no. Especially the poop explosions. That is when changing her diaper is like wrestling with a god damn alligator. I am dead serious. Diaper changes have to be quickly done or else we get a squirmy, cranky little one on our hands. Needs more than one wipe? Oh you are in deep shit (no pun intended) now! My mother in her infinite wisdom while we visited Grandma’s House gave her grapes. This kid loves grapes. But, man oh man, do they ever make her shit. No idea as to why. So here I am on a Sunday morning having to deal with a wonderful poop explosion fueled by grapes. Thank you Grandma! So after much wrestling, pinning, trying not to hurt her while cleaning up her butt; I think the duvet cover needs to be washed. From what I can see some of the poop somehow got from her butt onto the duvet. Hard to tell as the duvet cover is brown. What Steve doesn’t know can’t hurt him. It was on his side of the bed.
Yesterday at the Christmas Parade was fun! Other than it being bloody cold and windy. Instead of putting Ashlynn in a stroller we decided
putting her in the Snuggly on the person who we know wears two winter coats was the best bet. Got to keep everyone warm! She was as snug as a bug in a rug. Although with the coats done up all you saw was a face and two feet. We saw lots of floats, got to hear lots of music, danced, clapped, waved, laughed as one of the floats just kept stalling and would not start for love nor money, and cheered when we got to see Santa Clause himself. Everyone had a good time which was all that mattered. And it felt good to accidentally splash the woman’s designer jeans beside me. She was a bitch to put it nicely! I understand everyone is excited, it is crowded, and cold but that does not mean you have to encourage your brats to push other children out of the way in order to get more candy canes and other free hand outs at the parade than others. You, my dear, are a selfish bitch. I hope your children do not grow up to be like you.
Best quote from the parade comes from a conversation with my sister.
Her: I think your child shat on me!
Me: Did you hear grunting?
Her: I think so…
Me: Then most probably she did.
Her: Oh hell! Really! It was against my stomach!
Turns out…it was just a fart. I really big, loud fart. Kiddo you do me proud.