This morning, during what seemed like it was just going to be a routine diaper change, darling son of mine unleashed an event that shall forever be known as the Poopocalypse. Now, I’ve hunted for poopapotamus in the suburbs around Poopopolis before, and I’ve read many times a passage of Dickens calling for decreasing the surplus poopulation, but this was a real game of poop goes the weasel. I’ll admit to having barely hung on to my own breakfast during this one, it was such a mess.
And now the pictures! (But not of that.) Let us speak no more of the Poopocalypse. … Read more