Ok, I don't usually post these gross "mom" type posts, but I just had to share. If you are at all grossed out about "talking poop" then you should just move on.... you've been warned!
So last night Quinn was playing on the floor nekkid (on a blanket). He started to poop, so Hugh panicked and grabbed the nearest "thing" to avoid a mess -- our Thursday night newspaper. He put the paper under his bum and let him finish his poop.
What else were we to do?
Anyway, his next stop was the bath so it's best it happened on the floor on a newspaper instead of in the bath...right?
So yay, my boy is now paper-trained!
Moving on to this morning... (he is probably going to divorce me for this) Hugh says to me: "I just had a really gross dream. I don't really want to tell you cause it's so gross but it's really bothering me".
Stupid me "What did you dream"?
"I had to poo so I lined the tub with newspapers and sat on the edge of the tub and pooped in the tub".
Just goes to show how our daily lives, leach into our dreams.
Hoping for no more poop-drama,