Remember how earlier I had said "nothing exciting is happening" and I wanted to go back to work? Something exciting happened about two hours ago.

The kid and I were enjoying the early afternoon, rockin' out to some Wiggles and playing with the doll house. It was coming up on lunch time, so I stuck her into the playpen ('baby-prison') and went into the kitchen to whip something up. Now, I'm not stupid...at least not in the unattentive parent sense, anyway. I moved the playpen into the middle of the living room where I could watch her every move through the window-box thing between kitchen and said living room. I tossed in a bunch of her Little Pony toys, some hard-board books and a blanket to keep her content. I re-started the Wiggles CD and went to work on the lunch. A sandwich for dad, a bunch of cut-up cheese, a jar of spaghetti-pasta stuff and some formula for the little one. Simple. Took me maybe four minutes to toss together. I went into the living room to get her for lunch.

Now, I guess I've got complacent with her being a "good little girl" all the time, so I must not have been checking throught the window-box as often as I should have been...if at all...I can't remember. When I walked in the unmistakeable stench of fresh shit smacked me in the face. I looked at her and saw she her face was covered in something.

That "something" was shit. All across the face, hands, PJs...you name it.

I ran over and saw she had somehow pulled her diaper out through her pajama pants while still keeping the pants completely on. The diaper was filled with the most sour-smelling fecal matter known to man. Had it not been caked all over her, I might have been a little proud of her making such an un-godly stench. But, alas, it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. The playpen mesh wall was covered (they have a thousand tiny holes in 'em, with shit embedded in most of the holes), the toys were covered, the blanket had tiny hand-print shit smears across it, the books had some across the covers...luckily the stuffed animal was spared the shit treatment. She must have dropped a fantastic amount, pulled it all out, and wiped it everywhere like it were finger-paint.

I looked down and saw the discarded diaper laying business-end down on the carpet. You know how you just kind of know something is going to look bad before you see it? This was one of those situations. I checked her, and was a little surprised to see her laughing at the whole thing. I left everything were it was a took her straight to the bathtub to scrub off all the poop. The shit was through her hair, in her eye-lashes, behind her ears....you name it. The tub looked like a fucking mud-puddle by the time we were done. I dried her off, changed her, then went about the task of cleaning.

It was in the carpet, the playpen...everywhre. I did the best I could, throwing out the unimportant items and soaking the important ones in the slop-sink to be cleaned in a little bit. After wiping down everything, I could still smell shit. Guess where that was coming from???

My head!!

Somehow we transfered a large portion of shit to my head without my knowledge. It was pretty dried in by then, but still smelled awful. I stuck her in our reserve playpen (yup...I'm THAT prepared for anything that arises), and off I went to shower quick, the whole time thinking how funny this would be had it happened to anyone else.

When all was said and done, an hour had passed. She ate lunch (somehow I managed to lose my apetite...odd) drank her bottle and fell asleep for her afternoon nap. Looks like my afternoon will be a busy one after-all... 

To all you parents, I know you're probably glad it happened to me and not you. (Hell, maybe it HAS happened to you in the past and you're glad someone else had to suffer through a feces bomb.) To all of you without kids, well, shit happens, I guess. You'll get yours....trust me.

...I think I still smell it a little.

-The Big Bad