This post needs a warning because I'm about to describe a fairly nasty event.

Poor little [big] Ben has been sick for more than a week now and part of his suffering stems from the inability to poop for days on end. All that came to a disgusting end last night while Kerri and her parents were out shopping.

I had put him and Abby down for the night and was destryong brain cells in front of the TV when Ben started calling out for me. He does that sort of thing all the time and I usually just walk in there to lay him back down. To keep things in perspective you'll need to remember that I cannot smell anything -- You could clean a room with amonia and I'd never know it.

With the light off I couldn't see anything either. One of Ben's tricks to get out of bed is to claim that he has pooped. Since I can't smell I always have to check. For some reason, this time, I decided to turn on the light and what I found was a mud-like substance all over Ben's hands, back and crib. He apparently decided to check out the extra weight in his diaper and found that he could paint with the contents. I'm convinced he did it on purpose, just so he could get out of bed with the side benefit of watching me clean everything up.

This sort of thing doesn't bother me as much as one might think. It might be my 4.5 years of parenting or the 5 years I spent working at a dialysis clinic but human "functions" just don't get to me. It was incredibly frustrating though because I knew the kids had to get up on time in the morning for a Christmas party and I'm sure a few brain cells that were slated for destruction ended up surviving because of my shortened TV time.

I'm hoping this is my only experience with this sort of thing. If not, I'm gonna have to start shopping for a size 2T straight jacket/jammy.