snips and snails and puppy dog tails...

billy found out just what little boys are made of last night, when finn decided to give him an up close and personal look.  here's how it went down:

4 a.m.
i had just finished feeding finn and poked billy for the diaper change hand-off.

meg- "honey, wake up."
billy- "meh."
meg- "can you change finn's diaper? i'm tired."
billy- "who?"
meg- "focus."
billy- "yes."

i pass finn off to the semi-conscious billy and fall back into my pillows.
*rustle*rustle*
*grumble*grumble*

finn- "phhllllpppttttt!"
billy- "OH GOD! OH GOD! he pooped! he pooped on my hand!!!!"

i try to get up but i'm already laughing so hard i'm kind of immobile.

billy- "BABE! MY HAND! THERE'S POOP ON MY HAND! WHY! WHY!?! WHY DID YOU MAKE ME CHANGE HIS DIAPER! WHYYYYY!!!!???"

i look over and billy is mid-diaper change with poop indeed on his hand.
he takes the diaper off the rest of the way and is scrambling for a wipe for his hand when...

finn- "PPPHHLLPPPTTTRRRROOOAARrrrrppphllpptttt!"
billy- "SHIT! SHIT! SO MUCH SHIT!"
meg- *gasping for breath between hysterical laughter*
finn- *face seems to say "i feel so much better, i don't know about you guys"
billy- "BABE THERE'S SHIT EVERYWHERE! HE'S LAYING IN A PILE OF SHIT!"

finn is indeed laying in a pile of shit.
i'm laughing so hard that i can't get it together to give any sort of directions.
billy is just staring at finn and all of the poop, and still trying to wipe off his hand.
finn is blowing bubbles and smiling.

finally i manage to mumble instructions to billy, who is frozen with poop-induced fear.
meg- "honey, take him the rest of the way out of his sleeper and carry him into his room to get him cleaned up."

i help billy get the sleeper off, and he proceeds to carry finn out our bedroom door by his legs.
i'll never forget the image...
billy scampering out our door in his boxers with his little chicken legs, holding our baby, of which the only thing i can see is his little poop covered butt being escorted out sunny-side up.
i think i've seen kids get thrown out of the bar that way before.

the best part about the whole thing, was finn literally pooped through the bottom of sleeper, through the quilt on the bed, through the top sheet, and the fitted sheet.  obviously i'm not about to change the bed at 4 in the morning, so billy had to sleep in a little poop-spot sandwich for the rest of the night.
he was none too pleased. he kept peeling covers back like layers on an onion, only to find another wet spot each layer down.
(billy- "no... oh no.... and there too! no....")
it was more of a tired and resigned disgust at this point.

you would think that at 4 am a poop fiasco would make for a very grumpy family.
but finn was so happy and relieved to get all of that poop out (and so stinkin' cute)
(get it...stinkin'),
that billy and i had to laugh at everything.  it was kind of perfect.

little boys and poop.
i guess i have to get used to the grossness.

just yesterday our little nephews came to visit me at the shop.
cooper and liam were sitting at my feet behind the counter, elbow deep in a can of pringles while ty ran around the back of the store like a tornado.
mid-chew and out of the clear blue, liam goes:
"one time in the car, ty had diarrhea and it went all the way up his back."
meg- "oh wow. was that awesome ty?"
i look back at ty who stops, turns, smiles, and nods very slowly.

but despite all of their gross, stinky, potty-mouthed elementary-school boyness, they all hug me, tell me they love me (and promise me the only girls they will ever love are me and their mom), and then wipe greasy chip fingers all over every glass surface in the shop before they leave.

that's what little boys are made of.