His son was at school. His wife was at work. The dogs were outside. And his daughter was asleepin her room ( or so he thought ) em >.
It started out as the perfect lazy period for Omaha father, Jesse Mab-Phea, who was soaking up some much-needed me time in hisman cave, watching YouTube videos and fantasizing about the chocolate cake upstairs. In a rare window of period “where hes” thewhole house to himself, Jesse was ready to kick back and chillax like a boss for a pair hours, reveling in the peace and quiet.
But as we are all familiar with, in the world of toddlers, sometimes too quiet can translate into a total nightmare . strong>
As Jesse stimulated his way up the stairs to snag a piece of that mouth-wateringchocolate cake, a putrid odor stopped his tastebuds in their tracks. At first he presumed the dog fell a deuce, but as the the contaminate reek developed thicker from the stairwell all the way to Alessandras room, his belly plummeted to the floor.
He knew this was about to be BAD
But he had no idea just how bad.
It turns out, the sweet babe girl that he thought was taking a nap was actually hurling the POO PARTYof the century in her bedroom. After Jesse detected her covered head-to-toe in her own feces and assessed the category-five diaper explosion that encompassed every square-inch of her room, he took to Facebook to detail the utterly hilarious antics that ensued. His hysterically relatable post to rapidly moved viral, amassing over 115,000 shares from parents who Seemed his pain.
Jesses narration of the worlds worst poop-filled nappy is sure to leave you cry-laughing til it Injures:
So I was having a pretty good day. Plummeted the boy off at school, worked out, let the dogs outside and began chilling like a boss in my human cave in the cellar. Mayra was out teaching her workout class, Alessandra was asleep in her chamber and the dogs were outside. I had the house to myself and I was taking all the benefits of watching unimpeded YouTube videos.
I chose I wanted a piece of the chocolate cake we built for Jesses Cub Scout thing the other day, so I built my style up to the main floor. As Im going upstairs I reek something contaminate. I scan the basement from the stairs supposing the dogs plummeted a deuce before I let them outside. I see nothing .. And then my blood operates cold when I recognise the stink is coming from the upper storey. I run up the stairs calling no , no , no , no, till I get to Alessandras room.
There she is, standing at the newborn gate, butt naked, holding her diaper, embraced psyche to toe in her own crap. Im not talking a little turd here. Im talking layered on globs of human fecal matter encompassing her limbs, legs, face and HAIR. Its bad. Its worse then any other day she decided to explore in her diaper.
I was seduced to close her entrance, wait till Mayra got home and pretend like I was asleep so she would have to deal with it. But yesterday was Mexican Mothers day and I didnt want to be a dork. Here i am literally no good place to pick two daughters up to get her to the bath, so I only knock the newborn gate over so she can walk out on her own terms. Instead of walking out of her chamber she smiles up at me and widens her limbs in order to be allowed to picking her up. After a brief stare off she walks out of her room, passes me and psyches down the stairs. The bath wasnt downstairs, I pick her up. I use 2 thumbs on both hands to lift her by her armpits and I shuffle the 2 of us off to the bathroom.
After 20 minutes I pick all the crap out of her whisker, bottom of her feet and everywhere in between.
Now its time to step foot in her room. I envisioned she had pooped in her nappy and got it on herself But it was so much worse.
I walk in her chamber gradually and am greeted with a scene straight out of a horror movie. Everything on the right side of the chamber is contained in steaming babe turd. The walls, the playthings, the windows, the curtains, the play-act bench, the floor, the baby piano, my hopes, all covered in crap.
Hurricane$ hi% rina if you will. I have no clue where to start. So I call Mayra.
Shes on her behavior back home and Im on my lane to lighting the house on fire. I wont get into anymore graphic details but 2 rollings of paper towels, 5 gym towels, 1 bottle of bleach, 1 big pouch of crap covered dolls and 2 1/2 hours later her room still smells like a dumpster fire.
I swear I do everything I can to show these kids I love them but they turn on me when I least expect it. Anyway, I write these trials and tribulations of mine to not only do my part to spread written contraception and to strike anxiety in the hearts of new parents but also to remind myself that no matter what Im going through, at least Im not cleaning hot babe crap out of the gears of my daughters play set again.