Vintonville - The life and times of a guy, his Lady-Friend, a Little Dude and a Little Sis.

Since I’m in mixed company and need to perpetuate an image of cleanly wholesomeness, I won’t use the uncensored term for “poop-faced”, but I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of it– and while Little Dude doesn’t fit the slang definition, he  recently fit the literal.

So Little Sis is a cute, squirming poop machine. She sleeps, eats, cries, poops and gazes and then cries some more. She is, however, thoughtful enough to let us know when it’s time for some clean underpants:

Little Sis: “Grunt”

Little Sis’ Booty: “Prrrrrt”

Lady-Friend: :”Thank You, Little Sis.”

The other day, a call for diaper change was heard loud and clear. Lady-Friend dutifully went to the bedroom for some cleaning and changing. Little Dude, being the helpful Little Dude he is, followed and, standing roughly face to bum at the changing table, was sadly unawares of the fury about to be unleashed.

As Little Dude was watching the miracle of the diaper change, Little Sis had round two.

Splort.

Normally, there’s a diaper good and ready to catch that gunk. With diaper mid-change, the catch was made by Little Dude’s face which, with a sudden, splashy retort from Little Sis’ business end, gained instant freckles.

Little Dude let out an “Aaaaaaagh!”, Lady-Friend couldn’t stop laughing and, after a putting a respectable dent in our ready supply of handi-wipes, a valuable lesson was learned:

Baby-bum + close facial proximity = Poopface.

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