I've always said that men can't see dirt. Well, let me tell you.
I returned home yesterday around 4:00 from an afternoon of 5 hours of knitting with the girls. Time does fly when I'm having fun! Kip came to open the door for me, looking a bit weary. He said he had just cleaned up a dirty boy. He said that while changing the boy, some errant poop was lurking somewhere, an invitation for the boy's left hand to get in it. He said he was too late grabbing the little hand away, but quickly scrubbed off the mess. So...no harm done, right?
I made the bottles and scooped up the boy for some cuddling. We sat down to start the meal and I looked dreamily into his olive-green eyes. To my HORROR, I saw a brown smear on his right eyelid. I yelled, "AUGH!! He has poop on his eye!!!" I found my thoughts sleuthing out the physics of how a left outer palm makes contact with a right eyelid. There was no explanation.
I whisked the poor chap back to the child-laundering station where we met up with a warm washcloth.
I can deal with crumbs on the counter, beard bristle segments in the bathroom sink, unmatched socks scattered on the living room floor...but poop on the eye???
The moral of this story is that Kip either needs to wear glasses while baby-changing or the babies need some little swimming goggles as a precautionary measure.
1.16.18 ~ from the deep freeze
2 hours ago