At about 9 this morning I lept out of bed because Diana shrieked in Eli's room. After a mini heart attack, I found Diana standing dumbfounded in front of the changing table. Eli, naked from the waist down, squirmed on his back with what can only be described as a look of utter satisfaction on his face.
Apparently, with his diaper off, the young man pooped with such ferocity that it nailed his dresser a full four feet away. Including a bit of shrapnel on the log where we keep track of his poop*.
Diana snapped me out of my stupor by saying, "Do something!" As I tried to mop up the splatter, Eli christened his mother with a giant stream of pee.
Good thing he's so darned cute.
*please see the definition of "irony" to fully appreciate this.
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