Poop Tornado

This morning, I was changing Ladybug's ritual after-breakfast poopy diaper while Sweet Pea played tornado. He was pretending that a huge pile of couch cushions was his house and was running around yelling, "Mommy, Mommy, a tornado is coming. Come in my house!"

Note to self: turn off the news. You think they aren't paying attention, but apparently they are.

Back to the story, the smell coming from Ladybug was so bad that I swear I could see those little squiggly lines over her bottom, like in the old Pepi le Pue cartoons.

As I was turning blue in the face from holding my breath and attempting to keep a death grip on Ladybug's flailing legs, which threatened fling poop across the living room, Sweet Pea came over to us, leaned down, and yelled in Ladybug's face.

"Ladybug! Tornado coming! Tornado coming to blow your poop away!"

Ah, if only that were true.