I scooped Little E out of his crib this morning.
He was smiley and happy and hi mommy-ing himself silly.
I hugged him close to me.
Ugh, he peed through his diaper.
I quickly hoisted him up to his changing table. He refused to lay down so I stripped him as he stood there, precariously balanced with his arms death hugging my neck.
As I released the tabs of his diaper, the weight of a night of urine caused a dramatic thud of his diaper.
Something blue caught my eye.
IS THAT SOME SORT OF WEIRD BLUEBERRY SH*T?
Upon further examination, I was able to determine the specimen.
It was a matchbox car.
I laughed. He laughed.
Don't worry. I don't think Little E ate a car and then gracefully and painlessly pooped it out.
His crib is full of all sorts of goodies, including a rogue car or train.
I'm just interested in how the car made its way into the bowels of his tightly closed diaper.
I guess I'll never know. Like Stonehenge.
Good morning! You are the last thing I expected to find in my son's diaper!
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