Unspeakable

I thought the blow-out Jakob saved up until we returned from Europe was bad, but it was nothing compared to this one.

I was home alone, so no extra hands.

He was in an over-the-head onesie.

The poop had gone up his back and sides, and onto his shoulders. As I got him undressed, it got onto his arms and legs, and a little (which is way too much) onto his face.

I've already done laundry, but this just isn't going to be able to wait. I have to start another load now.

He's lying in the crib, starkers, while I regroup and try to stop retching. Even his room smells of poop. He needs a bath.

Out of all the frightful blow-outs and diaper changes I've witnessed since his birth, this is the first time I came very very close to vomiting.