People say to you, “Oh just wait till you get the first ‘Poonami’, that’ll be fun!”. I think ‘fun’ is perhaps somewhat of an exaggeration.
It’s like someone dropped a crap filled concussive grenade down the back of the nappy and pulled the pin. How it managed to get past the waistband and damn near up to his neck is outstanding, I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.
Add to that he’s not long had his rotavirus treatment, which makes his poop’s infectious. The Roobs is all for burning the house down and moving in with her parents. I’ve already had to stop her frisbee-ing the changing mat over the fence onto the neighbour’s kids trampoline.
It’s chaos here people, I’ve just noticed it’s snowing outside. Well that, or it’s Fallout from the A-Bomb our son just shot-putted into his Pampers.

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