Yesterday, Ava did something I could've lived without: She poo'd through her outfit and ALL OVER MY JEANS. While I was at work. Yuck. Oh, it only gets worse from there.
I grabbed a change of clothes and headed upstairs to her little changing pad to start sorting through the mess all over the two of us. Both girls I watch were home; the oldest was laughing hysterically, and the younger took up residence on the bed next to where I was changing Ava in order to "help". My phone, unbeknownst to me, rested underneath her where I had laid it on the bed. I'm sure you're starting to see where this is going...
While I bantered on shamelessly saying things like, "Did we have a poo catastrophe, my little lovebug?", and "That's ok - just a little baby poooooooo", S managed to dial a friend of mine, leaving her a nice, long voicemail.
Minute later, I got this text:
"Did you have a poo catastrophe???? HAHAHA :)"
Oh geez. God truly has a sense of humor, doesn't he?