Arriving from the direction of the lounge room, Miss2 walked up to me in the kitchen with a clean nappy and a pack of baby wipes. She didn't say anything but the smell which walked in with her was like being slapped in the face with a turd. Clearly, she'd not made it to the toilet to do her 'snake' (her term, not ours).
I took the nappy and wipes off her and took her hand.
"You know I know you sent her in with these, right?" I called out to Tracey, walking Miss2 into our bedroom. "Just for that, I'm using your side of the bed."
Tracey couldn't have appeared quicker if I'd announced a red spot special on boxes of Ferrero Rocher Raffaello. Suddenly, making our bed was her priority.
"Just use the floor," Tracey told me.
I was still gagging and wiping after Tracey had left the room. Miss2 was grinning at my facial expressions and handing me wipes. Obviously the smell wasn't bothering her at all - it seems even at a very young age we rather fancy the smells our own body makes.
Once I had her cleaned and changed I wrapped the offending nappy into a neat parcel, reusing the sticky tags to keep it all together and stop the soft chewy center from leaking out.
Which is a good thing, because otherwise we'd have to change the sheets later tonight when we go to bed and Tracey finds the whole stinky mess under her pillow.
Miss2 worked pretty hard on this one. Hope Tracey remembers to say 'thank you'.
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