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Not Much Makes Me Gag Anymore

Today I gagged. I pondered whether to include this in the blog due to the grossness of it all, but I figure I should chronicle this as well. So read on at your own risk. Having said that, I know most of you will be unable to tear yourself away now.

I was on the phone with my father. We were discussing the most recent family photos that Chad took while we were on a forced vacation, due to hurricane Ike. There was not one picture with all the kids smiling. In fact all of them were crying in most of the frames. Rylee was particularly put out by the whole affair and is sitting with her arms crossed, eyes closed, lower lip jutted out, and head defiantly turned away from the camera in many of the photos. It will be used to blackmail her at a later date.

Papa and I were having a pretty good laugh when Reagan walked in and muttered something unintelligible to me. She was naked, which is nothing new, since we are working on the potty training and many times the clothes get misplaced and it is just too much work to keep locating them and redressing the child. She held her left hand up, palm down, with her finger tips and thumb all pinched together, as if she wanted to put something in my hand. Again this is not unusual behavior. Toddlers are always putting something in your hand. It is rarely something you want in your hand, but it is generally not anything to worry about. She again "said" something that I didn't quite understand, a little louder this time. So, while continuing my phone conversation, I extended my right hand, palm up, to recieve what ever little treasure she had brought to me. She grabbed my hand just above the wrist with her right hand and proceeded to wipe her left hand up and down my exposed palm. She paused to inspect her left hand, gave one more wipe and released my hand. Up to this point I had not been paying too much attention. She turned and began to leave the room. Then turned back and indicated that she would like me to follow her. I looked at the substance on my hands. I wondered for a moment if I should smell it. I concluded that there was really no other option, so I did. Yep, that is what it was. It looked like peanut butter. As my eyes darted back to her retreating form I noticed that she had not attempted to wipe at all and a significant amount of that offensive matterial was still clinging to her. I looked down and saw that she was leaving a trail. "I GOTTA GO!" I said into the phone and without listening for a response, hung up. "STOP!!! DON'T MOVE" I told Reagan
"Poo poo." she said. Now I understood what she was saying.
"No kidding?" I didn't say. "Do not move. I need to wipe you." Now she breaks into tears, but at least she stopped running and leaving a trail.

It got all over, obviously. Most of it was in the the potty, which was good, but the rest was on the seat, the carpet, the tile, her legs, her feet and MY HAND.

I am just glad that the twins were taking a nap. It could have been much worse.

This was pretty much the highlight of my day.


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