Courtney is correct, walking into the house on Friday I was shocked by the volume of costumed children crawling, screaming and chewing on the furniture (and each other). I survived the party, and the 250-300 trick-or-treaters (a kid dressed as a whoopie cushion handily defeated all others) only to fall victim to political sign theft.
This morning I woke at first light and played dog-care roulette with Courtney, a game that involves pretending to sleep until the other person finally gets up (the loser) and cares for all five animals. I lost this morning, and on my way down stairs with the dogs, I heard Elliott cooing in her crib. Elliott greeted me with a smile, kicking an laughing as I lifted her from the crib. That was about the time I noticed the smell. Elliott's diaper was full, I mean loaded with her stinky "potty business". As I changed her diaper, Courtney walked by and asked that I retain the diaper until she had the opportunity to inspect Elliott's performance. I obliged Courtney's wish, but that meant she got to clean and re-diaper the child. Courtney later explained that she wanted to check if it was green, which I could have easily relayed to her by sworn statement if necessary. Saving a "Turd Ferguson" is just gross. Sorry, to discuss poop, but it wouldn't be a Daddy post without scatological humor. Poop.
1 comment:
I just laughed out loud. Hilarious post.
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