Early morning shenanigans

As earlier mentioned, Alex and I were in Platteville most of the weekend.  Two of Travis's brothers and one of their friends were staying at our house for a Badger game weekend.  Read:  4 guys drinking a whole bunch, watching some football, coming and going at all hours, and being mostly gross in my house.  Since our house is on the no where near big side, I decided it would be way easier for the beast and me to vacate.  So off we went on Friday night.

Everything was great.  Alex had a great time playing with his cousins and Julie and I had a great time hanging out.  The only part that sucked was Saturday night.  Julie and I went to bed around 11:45.  Alex woke up at 12:45 asking for milk.  And then again at 1.  And then again at 1:15.  And then he didn't want to be in his pack-n-play.  So I pulled him into the giant continent sized bed Julie and I were sleeping in.  And he laid there talking to me for a half hour.  Finally my pleading and begging and telling him to shhhh...it's time for more sleeps got him to lay still and fall asleep.  With his feet wedged nicely in my chest and stomach.  Not so much quality sleep for me.  And then he woke up for the day at 7am.

I sleepily took him into the living room, changed his completely soggy diaper (3 milk requests goes right through ya I guess), and sat down on the couch in hopes of some cartoons.  He, on the other hand, was much more interested in playing with the shoes and vacuum near the front door.  Which was fine until I heard the little velcro strips on his diaper being pulled apart.  When I asked why he was taking his diaper off he said he had to go potty.  So I sat him on the toilet where he immediately announced he was all done.  Fine.  Back into the living room.  I sat down on the floor and asked him to come over so I could get his diaper back on.  He was once again enthralled with the vacuum.  So I asked him again, but this time I was so tired and trying so hard to not get frustrated I had my eyes closed while I sat there asking.  I had my eyes closed for at most 8 seconds.  I opened them to see him standing in front of me showing me the "ewies" on his fingers.  Ewies by the way?  Poop.

So I look and sure enough he has poop on his butt.  I lay him down to clean him properly and get a diaper on him to avoid any further mess.  At which point he starts touching his legs and his belly and basically finger painting himself with poop.  And while I am frantically trying to stop the madness, I glance up and see a turd so huge I actually said out loud, "Did the dog poop on the carpet?"  Nope.  That giant ewie came from my kid.  Not the large Golden Retriever.  My 2 year old kid.  Who apparently can poop at the speed of light.