Number Two

This post is not for the faint of heart. If you get grossed out easily, stop reading now. Chasity, if you want to cure your baby fever, keep reading. And forward it on to David, too. Last night Jeremy and I walked in on our dog, Wrigley, tasting a Jude diaper concoction. Something new I learned: Never leave a dirty diaper on the floor for your dog to find. I know, you would think that is common sense. I blame pregnancy on stealing some brain cells. I was worried about Wrigley after she ate her treat, but it didn't seem to faze her. I should have known it would come back to haunt me.

This morning I decided to be a good mother and play with Wrigley in the backyard. After throwing her toy a few times, she took a break to do #2. I threw the toy some more and then all of a sudden she wouldn't fetch the toy. She kept pawing at it, but seemed afraid to pick it up. Well, lazy me wasn't about to go get it for her, so I kept on insisting that she bring it to me. She did. And I threw a few more times. At this point I kept smelling something foul. It kind of smelled like Jude had dirtied his diaper again. However, I knew that wasn't the case. Upon further inspection I saw that Wrigley had some mysterious smears on her paws. That's when I realized that Wrigley had stepped in her #2 that was the result of Jude's #2 from the night before. EEEWWWW! And let's just say that I know this because Jude produces a certain color that is hard to ignore.

So I got to add bathing the dog to my chores for the day. Totally disgusting! And something tells me that is probably not the grossest thing that I will have to deal with as a mother. I guess it's a good warm up for the future!

A freshly bathed Wrigley