WARNING

WARNING

If you do not like/appreciate stories about poop, do not read any further! You have been warned!

Yesterday at my nephew's baby blessing Bryan reminded me of a story that for some reason never made it to the blog. I think it's because I hadn't started the blog yet, or maybe I thought it to be inappropriate at the time, but this story is so good that it should've made it before now. I hope that I can give it justice, because it's just about one of the funniest things. Ever.
When Lo was maybe 8 months old, Bryan was giving her a bath in the tub. He noticed that she started pushing, you know PUSHING - we all know that face. From the next room I heard "Oh, no you don't" and he yanked her out and held her over the toilet. After a minute or so, she stopped pushing, so he decided to try and get a diaper on her & ran across the hall into her room. Then I hear "I need some help, oh no, oh (and lots of gagging noises)" - I ran into her room, still not 100% sure of what was going on and he basically threw her at me (the diaper had NOT made it onto her bum).
Then he caught the poop.
IN HIS HAND.
And ran to the bathroom, gagging and almost puking the whole way. Afterwards, as I was still laughing hysterically, he was still gagging talking about how it was all "warm and slimy".
I'm actually surprised that he didn't puke - he puked at the smell of an outhouse while we were camping 5 years ago. My poor husband does not do well with smells.
He says that his thought process was "carpet or hand, carpet or hand" - which is understandable, seeing how Bryan is a clean freak. But really? In the hand? I like to think that I could've come up with a better solution than catching a ball of poop in my bare hand. I guess I can thank him for taking one for the team?
And for the record I seriously almost simultaneously peed my pants and spit out pasta salad while he told this story yesterday. I was totally unprepared.

HAPPY MONDAY!!!