Last week I…
Grabbed throw up with my hands.
Got handed a booger in the car.
Changed 14 poopy diapers.
Ended up with poo on my elbow.
For a long time.
Before I finally realized that the awful smell I kept catching a whiff of was me.
Added “elbow” the list of things to check when smelling poo.
Got spit up on.
Went out in public with a spit up-covered shirt.
It’s hard for me to even remember all of it because this is my life right now and strangely…this doesn’t bother me.
I know that’s probably gross to hear, but it really doesn’t.
Which kind of shocks me, because I feel like he’s normally kind of gross himself.
Apparently, the kids’ grossness is the ultimate in grossness for him.
Every poopy diaper he changes is cause for him to say, “Ewww, gross!” and make gagging sounds and then he wraps it in its own special bag and takes it outside immediately.
He changes his clothes at the first sign of spit up.
He actually believes he needs to take showers on a daily basis!
I mean, what is he thinking?!
I guess he thinks being gross is gross.
And I think it’s normal.
What I’m basically saying is…
Kev is a wuss.
(A clean, good-smelling one.)
And I *may be* in need of some type of “stop the grossness” intervention.
Smell you later!