Another Poop Story

I think we’ve all come to the conclusion that I don’t edit much out from our Elijah lives in the old bloggeroo. Mostly because I think it’s hilarious. But also because I think it’s dumb to project only the good without the bad. Who wants to read about a saccharine perfect, Beaver Cleaver house? Besides June Cleaver, of course.

But I will admit that I’ve held a couple things back. In some cases, because I didn’t want to jinx (when we were considering putting Eli in that helmet). In other cases, extreme incompetence (the time I sleepily smashed Eli’s face on my shoulder in the middle of the night).

There’s also a third category: stomach churningly gross.

Well, today you’re getting one! Eli tasted his own poop. Oh yeah, you read that right. Eli put poop into his own mouth.

Thankfully, I wasn’t there for the incident. Or else I’d be typing this from the comforting confines of an insane asylum. Diana describes it this way:

Eli was doing the old family bath with Di. And, as he’s want to do, he defecated into the tub (Mental note: Never bathe with the boy again). As Diana was leaping to safety to distance herself from all cooties and cootie-related sub-cooties, Eli thought, “Hmm. This seems like something that could be delicious.”

Thankfully, he did not find it delicious. He found it, as you can imagine, horribly disgusting. I guess it’s one of life’s early lessons. Do not eat you own poop.

I think I am going to sew that into a pillow.

I apologize to everyone with a delicate stomach. Like me.

I also apologize to Elijah when he’s reading this in the future. And his future prom date. I do not make the news. I only report it.