I have a good idea that some of you will shrivel up in horror at this post, and even I think it puts us a little too much "out there" for my comfort. Nevertheless, David thinks this was heeelarious and wants me to tell you about yesterday morning.
Back story, as always. After 10 years and counting of togetherness, we are pretty comfortable around each other. He cured me of my fear of peeing with the bathroom door open early on, and really, after you've had a front row seat at the births of two of your children, what mystery is left? Ok, we aren't "pretty" comfortable, we are extreeeeeeemely comfortable.
So much so that yesterday morning when he experienced the fascinating neon blue-green results of too much Trix consumption (we think, we are not actually sure), he wanted me to come check things out. I was eating breakfast at the moment and politely declined, but Elizabeth, who was also downing Cheerios, got BIG eyes at the shouted description of what was happening in the bathroom. And hastily got down out of her booster seat to go see this phenomenon for herself. Bear in mind, she was fairly recently potty-trained, she finds poop especially fascinating at the moment.
Not realizing she was heading his way, he flushed (while I belatedly shouted out to not), and when she met him halfway and realized she was "too late", her face crumpled. And she sobbed inconsolably for 20 minutes. About poop.
I can only shake my head.