Normally I blog in a lovely shade of blue/purple, today I blog in BROWN.
Last night Mat was giving Dylan a bath, and all of a sudden he shouts that he needs help. Help in the bathroom is never the call you want to get. By the time I arrive, it looks calm, but the running toilet gives away a clue. " I just finished fishing out poop from the bathtub" says Mat. Ah, we can now check this off Dylan's list of baby to dos. He waited 22 months before he pooped in the tub.
So at this point we decide to move Dylan to the en suite shower so he can clean up in there. So in goes Daddy, and in goes Dyl. Turns out they had a great time in the shower, so good that Dylan cried and cried when he came out.
An unfortunate casualty of the poop in the tub incident is that Dylan, for the first time ever took his beloved sleeping baby in the tub, and sleeping baby, although smiling, was laying face down in the poopy tub when I retrieved his limp body.
(don't be alarmed, he's always limp, he is a plush toy after all)