The Pizza & The Explosion

Remember my sneaky plan to get Lovebug to eat more green vegetables?? You know, food process 3/4 of a bag of broccoli, put it into spaghetti sauce and make home-made pizza??

Yup... that plan back fired, literally.

I fed the Bug, gave him a nap, got him dressed, and headed to a friend's house for a Baby Shower. Lovebug was all set to play with my friend's son for the night, while Mommy got cra-azzy at the Shower.

I had approximately ninety seven bags to carry into my friends house; food, raffle prizes, presents... yada yada. We pulled onto their street and Lovebug says, "Potty Mommy," and then... "My back hurts."

Okay, so now I know I have to bust a move into the house (easier said than done at nearly 6 months pregnant). We'll make a quick trip to the Potty,  and then have my friend (a Nurse) look at Lovebug's back. Got it.
I am reciting the plan in my head as I throw the car in park, hop out of the car, and grab Lovebug from his car seat. We fly into the house, straight to the Potty. So far so good.

Then, I am pulling down Lovebug's pants when I notice a stench, and then... poop in the front.

Poop in the front is never good. Nor, is poop all. the. way. up. the. back.

"My back hurts"... ohhhh, what he meant to say was, "My back is sticky, and covered in shit."

The long and short of it is, my friend helped me get the one piece bathing suit of poop (go ahead, picture it) off of Lovebug, and throw him in the shower. I Feberez-ed the crap out of her house, dressed Lovebug in someone else's clothes, and went to work on the carseat.

Somehow, in my haste to spring into get-him-to-the-potty-on-time action, I neglected to look at the car seat. I just grabbed Lovebug out of it, and ran like Hell towards the nearest bathroom.

Had I taken the time to look, I would have seen my poor Britax car seat, covered in poop, covered. It looked like someone had pureed a Butterfinger with water, and dumped it down the seat. It smelt like a barn. It was runny, and pooling in a puddle at the bottom. Oh God it was so gross.

One box of wipes, and an entire bottle of Febreze later... and Lovebug was playing happily outside with the kids; the poop emergency a distant memory.

And me? I was inside, feeling like crap for damn near ripping my son's colon out with a brocolli pizza.

So much for green veggies... it's the thought that counts, right?

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