Britt pooped in the bathtub

the other night. She'd done it once before, a long time ago, but it was more solid and easier to deal with that time. This time the bath water instantly turned into poop soup.

It was everywhere -- all over her legs, her safety seat and her bath toys, and then she stuck her hands in it and was trying to touch her face. Way too much to cope with alone so I had to holler for backup. Mikey came and held her up while I hosed her off with the hand-held shower thingy. She was flailin' and a-wailin', and so was I.

I am not the person you want to have on hand in a poop emergency. I can handle poop in a diaper, because it's (usually) neatly contained and I can make it go away quickly. But when it's scattered all over tarnation and covering the baby from head to toe and I have to disinfect everything in sight, I tend to lose my shit (no pun intended).