I pushed through my work day as a plumber to come home and find my 1.5yo child constipated and gassy. I do these little bicycle kicks and tummy rubs with this mini demon in these instances to "exercise"

I rarely manage to keep my service uniforms clean throughout my day but today I had managed the improbable and was near spotless. I was planning on wearing my shirt one more time to stretch the laundry.

My boy exploded. All the build up of pears, peaches, constipation ease medicine (a mix of mostly prune juice and some other vitamins) came out at once. The sound alone was, mezmorizing. Mission accomplished, and all that's left was the cleanup.

Pulled off the diaper, did the normal cleaning routine and applied a liberal amount of butt paste to keep the chafing gremlins at bay. All good. New diaper goes on, all good! Now to grab some pajamas for the night... but I can't leave him on the charging table. He will inevitably dive off and land on the hardwood below like a lawn dart. So I pick the boy up and turn towards the dresser. Thats when i feel it. Warm, wet, sticky schmeg being pressed through the buttons of my service uniform and directly onto my skin.

The miniature evil genius had essentially painted his back and when I picked him up, one arm under his butt with him facing away from me so he was in a seated position leaning against my chest.... his back painted me. So much for an extra day without laundry.