Kids can be so gross.

So I was sitting down to post about some helpful thing I learned about while pregnant and became completely waylaid by the site of a baby wipe on the floor. Let me tell you the story about this wipe.

About 30 minutes previously, I saw that Brandon had a baby wipe, and was "cleaning" the glass face of the fireplace with it. Cute, right? I have taught him young to carry his weight. He gets into everything, so I didn't really wonder where the wipe came from. In my mind, obviously, he grabbed it from the wipes container. There is nowhere else he could possibly get a wipe from.

After "cleaning", he dropped the wipe at the base of the fireplace and carried on about his day. He ate a banana. He touched everything in the living room. He climbed all over the furniture. He touched everything.

I sat down in one of the chairs close to the fireplace. I glanced at the wipe and thought, do I tell him to pick it up and throw it away or do I just do it mys- what the FUCK??

There was poop on the wipe.

Poop.

Apparently, this wipe somehow strayed from the pooey diaper that I had changed of his about an hour earlier, I obviously did not notice this, and Brandon found it (of course) and went to work.

I picked it up, and found myself at a complete loss as to what to do. Fumigate the entire living room? Just burn down the house? I'm mentally running through everything I saw him touch, and when I realized that he had eaten a banana with his poopy hands, I just kind of gave up. 

Okay, not entirely. I washed his hands, and grabbed some Lysol wipes and cleaned the known areas of contamination, then just kind of sprayed the rest of the living room with the Lysol spray. 

My fingers are crossed that we don't end up with some sort of severe intestinal problems, E. coli contamination, or whatever else humans get from poop. If you never see a post from me again, you'll know what happened. I died. 

Who wants to come over?