Number twos have been a little rare around here lately. That means it's only a matter of time until an explosive event.
Before we went out this morning dad put me on my change table and waited.
And waited.
"Come on, do a poo" he'd say, like a coach willing his team to score a goal. Needless to say, nothing happened. So we decided to go out.
We stocked my nappy bag with an extra set of clothes, we even had a getaway plan, parking the car in an easy to reach spot. We knew what to do, because unfortunately this kind of thing has happened before.
We got home, I had a sleep, I had a feed, and I had a bath. Still no nappy action.
Dad says he's surprisingly happy to be going off to work tomorrow morning, being a Monday and all...I wonder why?!
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