I dragged myself home from work after a hectic and difficult day. My husband and Punkie were already home and I could hear them playing in the living room as I walked in.
On my way through the kitchen, I noticed (1) the washing machine was running (highly unusual), and (2) there was a note on the kitchen table from day care.
Pausing to look at the note, it took a few minutes for the words to de-fuzz in my failing, tired eyesight. The note said that Punkie had a diaper blowout of such epic proportions that they had no choice but to give him a bath and they recommend that we just throw away his clothing. They explained to my husband when he picked Punkie up that, at one point, the poop radiated out from his diaper to cover 90% of his body. It reached all the way up the back of his neck.
That’s a new one on me. Um…sweet? (That’s probably not the appropriate reaction.)
I blame the peas. I know Punkie loves those now (horrifying), but they’re disgusting and they obviously have an agenda of their own.