Kind of like this*, only way less vomity.

* “This” being this –> Read at your own risk.  If you are easily skeeved out or have a loosey-goosey gag reflex, I’d still recommend you read this, just probably have a bucket or a big bowl within arms reach.  M’kay?  Go.  I’ll wait.

(For those who don’t know me as well as you should, you should know this –> When I read that post, I fell in love.  The straight kind of love, though, not the “other” kind.  Not that there would be anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t that kind of love.  And the recipient of my love was a funny woman named Becky who embraced the humour in being shat uponIt takes a special kind of lady to find the funny in a face full of poop-spray.)

***

So, tonight was kind of like that, only not so…dog-poopy.

To make a short story long, as is my specialty, I’ll give you some background.  Avery hates having her diaper or clothes changed.  Hates it with every fibre of her body.  She kicks me like she wants to knock my teeth out.  She screams like she wants the neighbours to call Child Protective Services.  Hates it.  Always has, since the day she was born.  I don’t think I’ve had one single diaper change that wasn’t an actual physical fight.

Tonight I gave her a cookie to eat while I changed her, in hopes that the bribe and distraction would mean I could get this enormous chore done quickly.  It didn’t really work.  It kept her food-hole shut, but she was still roundhousing me like she meant to hurt me in my face.  So I squealed like a little girl.  Mostly to startle her into stopping, but also to be silly.  But it worked too well.  She found it hysterical. 

I got her diaper changed and was putting on her jam-jams, still squealing.  I stood her up as she put a huge bite of chocolate chip cookie in her mouth.  You see where this is going? 

SQUEEEE!!!! (that was me)

PTHBTHBTHSSSSPUH.  TUH.  (that was Avery) (all over my face)

I got absolutely strafed with chewed up cookie and chocolate goober shrapnel.  My face, torso, hands, the carpet, my newly quaffed hair, all splattered with Avery’s cookie mush.

Gross.

But at least it wasn’t poop, human or canine.

 

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5 thoughts on “Kind of like this*, only way less vomity.

  1. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! THANK YOU!! You know what’s funny? Last night I was up late, feeling blue about like 50 different things like blah blah I’m fat, blah blah my dog died, yadda yadda I’m old, and then I was reading your Twitter and I was like, I wish that Jen O girl liked me. Jen O hates me. Jen O thinks I’m stupid. I like her blog. My blog is gross. I should just sleep until March.

    And this is why I’m double happy clappy about what you wrote up there.

    I love how you connected cookie spray with anal spray. Shrapnel is shrapnel. And Tuh? Yes, exactly. Tuh.

    • I love that your blog is gross! Gross is good because gross is a) super funny and b) one of my all-time favourite words, right after “harpoon”.

      Jen O. likes you and doesn’t hate you and doesn’t think you’re stupid. Jen O. likes your yellow hair and thinks your a Master Cusser.

      And that, dear friends, is the last time you’ll hear me speak in the third person because now I feel all slimey from it.

  2. Oh god, I was clenching my toes cuz I was prepared for her to be eating poop! Thank god it was cookie spray, I don’t think I could deal with poop eating at 8am. I mean, I could totally deal with it, but cookie spray goes way better with cereal.

    In fact, now I’m hankering for a chocolate chip cookie… 🙂

  3. I was so expecting something much worse than chocolate chip cookie – thankfully not. And I never listen to warnings, if you say not to read it, I really really want to read it.

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