The Great Poo Escape of 2007!

It was a chilly morning. The clouds slightly covered the sun. The wind gently flowed through the air leaving behind a scent of new promise. It was like any other morning. Fresh and free of chaos, but something was wrong. It was quiet. Almost too quiet.

and then it happened...

I heard my son, but something didn't seem right. I opened the door to Babydogs room to see what I had feared most.

St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Laaaaaaaame!

The Boston Massacre, Booooring! Nothing could compete with this.

At the back end of the crib was Babydog. He was sitting up letting out a small cry. I looked at him. It was as if he'd seen a ghost. A murdering ghost. I turned and looked to see what he was focusing on. It was everywhere! Slaughtered. On the floor, on the mattress, the railings, toys, himself. CSI could have had a field day in here. Fingerprints where embedded on the rails. DNA was a plenty. No doubt about it son. You're guilty!

In a fit of rage or just a simple exploration. Babydog decided to murder/explore his diaper. Now this wouldn't be so bad, but the diaper was fully loaded with POO!!!!!

Yes! My son played with his poo like a wild monkey would. I'm just glad I wasn't there because I have a feeling that some would have landed on me.

The little bugger took his pants off and then took his diaper off. Hey why not! There was even pee and poo on one of his books under the crib. It was like he stood up and peed out the side and threw a little poo on for spice. It reminded me of playing with playdough. He did however throw his diaper into his laundry basket. So I give him an A for effort in clean up.

He was covered though. Head to toe in poo. I didn't know what to do. I was shocked. And you know as well as I do that he had eaten some. Everything goes in his mouth, so there is no way for me not to expect he ate poo.

I didn't know he had some German in him.

I'm just hoping this doesn't turn into a regular event because I might need to make a call for The Wolf next time.