I guess if you’re a mommy and a blogger then this subject will come up sooner-than-later. Since this is only my sixth post I guess you can say it came up sooner for me.
I’m not sure what you call explosions of the rear-end kind at your house, but in the Burde nest we call them Code Browns. And if a Code Brown is called, it means back-up is needed. It’s no joke.
I can’t remember the last time I called a Code Brown. Honestly, I don’t know if I have ever personally called a Code Brown. Maybe once. I am pretty good at handling any kind of explosion that comes at me. Armed with a box full of wipes and sincere love for my babies, I can usually get through anything. Tonight was a different story.
Two little girlies taking a nice bath together tonight ended with mom throwing up in her mouth several times. Our oldest was being so cute with the babe, talking to her and even singing, ‘This little piggy’ while touching her toes. Suddenly our oldest looked over and said, ‘mom…what’s this?’
‘I don’t know, honey. Where did that come from?’ Then I realized the answer to that question.
You can guess where the story goes from here.
As I urgently persuaded our toddler to get out of the tub like she’s chasing the ice cream man, I scooped up the babe and got her onto a nice clean towel. So, why the Code Brown? The tub was only the first victim. The action continued and I was stuck in the bathroom assessing the situation.
- Two wet kids
- One wriggly baby
- Two Code Brown sites
- And the clincher…no wipes.
If I have ever complained about Verizon I will never again. My cell phone worked and I was able to call my husband who was upstairs. And I said it. Code Brown.
What does Brown do for me? Well, it makes me dry-heave for one.