Out, Damned Spot!

My house is officially a hazardous waste zone. No one is allowed to come over until we've had the carpets cleaned. As you know, Noah vomited on the carpet in various all the rooms of the house, and today he pooped on it too.

I guess the delicate balance of his digestive ecosystem was thrown out of whack, because he had ridiculously explosive poop on Thursday evening. He was having a bottle of milk and reclining in his armchair, and I thought all was well until I detected a foul, pickle-like smell. I thought he had vomited up the milk again.

Then the horror hit me. It looked like someone had taken a pastry bag full of yellow, pickle-scented soft poop and squirted it all over Noah's chair, the carpet in front of the chair, his bottle of milk, and all over his baby body. He was holding poop in his hand. When I finally realized what the heck was going on, he smiled at me and patted it into his hair, then stuck a finger in his mouth.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

I made a panicked phone call to Brendan, which we laughed about later, while I stripped and rinsed the Small Poopy Human in the bathtub. Poop was everywhere, even on me. So now, not only does my house smell like vomit, it smells like human feces too.

My cortisol levels went through the roof today. No wonder I can't get back down to my actor weight.

Now that I have sufficiently nauseated everyone, have a great weekend!

Pre Poopmageddon on our two hour walk