If you CANNOT handle poop. Don't have kids.

Because you will undoubtedly have to deal with it - no exceptions. And I'm not gonna lie, it's gross. I have been tried and tested and know that I can, indeed, deal with the my children's feces. Today was one of those days. Quick(not too graphic, but gross) story:

While Turtle and Monkey Man eat breakfast, I read my scriptures. It's the only time, first thing in the morning, that I have any quiet. Turtle sits in his booster seat, so I usually leave him in there as long as he's happy. Monkey can just get down himself when he's completely finished. While I was reading, DH came down stairs and we chatted for a bit. My back is facing the dining table, when DH asks me "what's all over [Turtle]?".

"Food." I assume. As I glance back, I say out loud... "What the...? I didn't give him anything brown..." As I take steps closer my heart starts racing as I imagine the worst...

It. Is. The. Worst.

And. Its. EVERYWHERE.

I didn't even want to touch him! DH was chuckling at this point and I look at him with pleading eyes, "Don't make me deal with this!" I'm thinking.

"What do you want me to do?!" He asks.

"I dunno. ANYTHING!" But I can't think of any other request than do it all!"

He's had a long night, I know. And I really can't imagine him handling this better than me (call it what you will, but, ultimately, I don't mind dealing with my children). I buck up, unbuckle the human disgustoid, and put him, shirt, diaper and all- right into the tub.

And I deal with it.

Good morning - TO ME!