This is my child running away from me as I attempt to change his diaper. It was indeed a number two. As long as I live I will never understand the motivation behind this.
Think about it. If I pooped my pants (and yeah, I’ve sure come close) I’d be gagging and probably crying in disgust and embarrassment.
I’d want that sh*t (literally) away from my body as soon as possible. I wouldn’t even bother washing my clothes. Or throwing them away. I’d BURN THEM — and probably my entire house. Assuming that’s where I did it.
Of course, wouldn’t I be able to make it to the bathroom at home? I suppose then it’d probably happen at Target. Some single dude monopolizing the one family bathroom. So I’d burn that place down. But that’s arson. Then there’s the likely prison sentence... I digress.
You get it.
What are these kids thinking?
Ooooh, stay away, mommy. That’s MINE! I made it. With MY BODY! I worked so hard and ate so many blueberries in order to build it. Then hid in the corner of the playroom, squatting and grunting until I was as red as a cherry. I’m so proud of my hard work. Aren’t you proud of me?
I love it and I’m keeping it. Forever!
I don’t get it. There has been only one thing that exited my body that I even had a remote interest in keeping. And that was my child!
What does he think he’s going to do with it? Save it on a shelf in his room? Pass it down to his kids?
No common sense with these toddler, I tell you. None at all!
Does your child dread the diaper change?