Tonight I heard a plaintive wail from Punkinhead's room, "Can I get some help?" And no, verbal as she increasingly is, it was not Punkinhead, but Buzzkill.
Apparently he was on the phone with a former co-worker, and since I was online, he had physical custody of the Punkinhead. He heard her "tooting" and then realized there was probably actually poop involved due to the smell. Man-style, he figured he could finish his phone call and then give her a change, but alas, when he glanced down poop was spilling out of the back of her pants onto his lap. This is one of the few days I had her in an actual top instead of a onesie, so the poop was free to escape.
Jump to the plaintive wail.....I give instructions on getting her hosed down and into clean clothes and then have the pleasure of telling him....."Go change your poopy pants!"
So much joy....