Little Disaster

So in the midst of the market crashing, people of this country worried and divided more than ever …

Zella pooped the bed.

It must have been 3:37 or so Saturday morning when my wife was changing the diaper. No problem. She was 2 feet away from me but I wasn't scared (she sleeps between us usually because that actually increases our chance of reaching that wonderful world of unconsciousness). Plus - Infant poops smell nowhere near what a toddler poop (or God forbid adult poop) smells like.

"I don't want her feet in her poop" she said - walking into the other room to get a diaper. I was left holding Zella's feet up so she was in sort of a on-the-back fetal crouch.

Little did I know that this is the "launch" position for liquid poop (apparently when all you drink is liquid, that's what comes out). So the dirty diaper still under her was no help at all … the green-stream shot over that, onto the sheets and comforter.

I'm sure there's some evolutionary reason humans find this so incredibly repulsive - if we didn't, we'd probably have consumed it and gone extinct. Anyway, this morning - just to prove humans aren't the smartest animals on the planet, it happened again.

Here's to clean sheets.