Me and my sweet baby Dalton.
I had to at least put a good picture, because the rest of this story makes me want to gag...still...
The day that I made Whoopie Pies, I swept and mopped my floor.
I think it's always good to start off a project with a clean house.
That way when you are done, you only have a project mess to clean instead of a house mess.
I fed my kids lunch and they made a disaster.
I sliced up peaches and the kids got sticky peach juice everywhere.
So, I swept and mopped my floor...again.
Then I let them eat Whoopie Pie.
Naturally, they made a huge disaster.
I sighed and started picking up pieces of discarded whoopie pie.
I reached down to pick up one chunk of pumpkin colored mess.
The piece I picked up felt kind of squishy.
It didn't feel like cookie.
Can you see where this is going?
If you're a mom...you might be able to guess...
So, I decided to smell it.
(I'm gagging just remembering this...)
Whoopie Pie would smell like pumpkin spice.
It didn't smell like pumpkin spice...it smelled like poop.
Like poop and peaches.
I started to gag.
I tossed it in the trash and started to scrub my hands, my arms, etc.
Then I turned to my baby...who giggled with all of the sudden attention.
"You..." was all I could manage.
I picked him up and more pooped out peaches squished out of his diaper and onto the floor.
Now that I was paying attention, I could find a trail of poop everywhere that he had been in the last half hour.
So, I spent the rest of the afternoon scrubbing the baby, the floors, the carpet, myself, everyone's hands, the floors again, etc.
To top off a fabulous day...
my 3 year old pooped in the bath that night.
And I spent all night scrubbing...again.









































