Birth Control, part II

Our neighbor's house is for sale. They've been renting it and the owners have put it on the market. All the neighborhood kids play together, so we've joked about intentionally sabotaging viewings by misbehaving in the cul-de-sac to scare potential buyers away. We haven't actually done it, of course.

BeYoYo is cutting four teeth, so he's been having some diarrhea. (See last week's post on birth control.) The diarrhea is causing some gnarly diaper rash, and his poor bum has been blistered. We're using plenty of butt paste and it's clearing up, but I've also let him be pantless outside to air the whole thing out.

On Saturday he and I were playing outside on the front porch, painting a Mother's Day stepping stone for my mom and letting his butt air out. A potential buyer was at our neighbor's house standing on their front porch. I was pretending not to listen to them, but they were on the phone to someone saying they couldn't get in to see the house. Just then, I heard a pttttthhhhh. Out of nowhere there was a shitsplosion on the front porch. BeYoYo was just as surprised as I was.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Disentary

There was no warning. No stomach grumbling, not the smallest whine. Just a noise and it was everywhere. And he was in the perfect position so that very little got on him, although a little did splatter on the stepping stone. Happy Mother's Day!

I was paralyzed. Did this really just happen? Of course The Husband was not home. The first thing I could think to do was to take a picture to prove to him that these are the things his angel children do when he's not around. I knew no one would believe just a description of this yearbook-worthy event. Then I got it together enough to pick BeYoYo up and take him in to the bath (again). When we came back out the defecation station remained on the porch, but the perspective buyers were gone. Was it something we said?