Shit Breath

I'm not interested in being the writer of a "daddy blog," describing the daily doeses of puke, projectile urine, and spinach-looking poop just to ruin your lunches. But I haven't read another father's post where poor old dad's dogs figured out about the poop diaper first.

It must happen all the time. The dogs have the advantage of millions more olfactory receptors, so certainly, they're always first to know. And given enough time, there must be dogs out there who would work their way into the britches, and bite and tug the diaper to get at the treasure inside.

Something like this occurred this past weekend while I was working out in the yard. Mrs. theskinnyonbenny found the scene which included a diaper so wide open that one ankle brushed poop while he power crawled across the floor.

It actually turned out to be an easy cleanup. The diaper fell off without spilling its contents, so I threw it out, gave the boy a wipedown, and all was pretty much back to normal.

A couple hours later, I accepted a kiss from Blossom, and I noticed that she had shit breath. Yuck.