Wednesdays Steve comes home and I usually bust out right away to go to small group. This Wednesday was no different. I'm five minutes down the road and Steve calls me up.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
"Hudson is covered in poop. It's ALL over."
"Hahaha, no but sucks to be you."
I go on with my bad self and do my Jesus thing and come home and find the house is relatively cleaned up. I'm thinking, good work Steve, must not have been such a bad night.
Then he comes out of the bedroom after putting Rylee asleep.
"It was all over! Poop. Was. Everywhere."
See Hudson was in his highchair and when you sit and have a #2... Well, you can imagine. But Steve didn't have to. He was there. Right smack in the middle of it. So he grabbed poop infested Hudson. Put him on the bath floor. Called Rylee for back up. Asked her to bring a wipe. She goes to retrieve and brings back one. Just one. Steve should have been more specific I guess. So he asks her again...
"Rylee can you get some more wipes please."
Goes, comes back... One wipe.
He asks again... She goes, comes back... One.
Steve said this happened over and over again. But if you know Steve he is a maximizer so I'm going to say it happened three maybe four times. Then he finally went and got some himself and when he came back Hudson had dropped a few more kernels of corn. The sight of this makes Steve start to wig out, but then it got worse. He realized there was a little trail as well.
He finally gets Hudson cleaned up, bathed, cleans up the dinning room, the high chair, the hallway, the bathroom and can't believe the stench that still is lingering. Then he realizes it's all over his shirt! So he goes to clean up his shirt and off the kids go and play. But Hudson is into crawling and exploring... And he notices a nice white box in the receptacle so he goes for it... Turns out the carbon monoxide detector still works, still is extremely loud, and freaks out Hudson to the point of a pretty good breakdown.
Then Steve starts to smell a little burning. Turns out he didn't hear the timer go off on the oven which Rylee and I slaved all afternoon on for his remaining lunches for the week. Steve now gets burnt and crispy meatballs tomorrow.
To top it all off. I come home later right as he put Rylee down... We chat in the bathroom where the massacre happened and notice a little something. Right under Steve's chin was the evidence.
Just a tiny smudge of poo.