What's that smell?

Thursday, Parker and I stayed home all day after a long week of running around. I was wearing my 'mom uniform' (that's what Doug calls it) which consists of Doug's v-neck white t-shirts and yoga pants and spent most of the morning cleaning house. Clearly I was juggling this act in between feedings, diaper changes and dodging throw-up. You see, my son loves to gorge himself. He does little in moderation... and I'll be honest, I don't know who he got it from. (Wink!!!!)

Because of his love to gorge, it often means when he burps his inner dam breaks loose and out it all comes. Thursday was one of those days. Since we weren't going anywhere, I just wiped myself off and kept right on moving.

Hours later as I was taking out the trash, I smelled something really sour. I got on my hands and knees and looked for garbage that had escaped the 'receptacle' and had decided to plant roots, but I didn't really find anything. As I was washing the dishes I thought, man something really stinks. Is there mold on the plates... what is it. Just as quickly as I could finish my thought I wiped my face on my sleeve and found it...

I was the one that was sour, rotten, molding and growing roots! I had been smelling myself, well really the work of Parker. Oh, the luxurious life of a mother. I ended my day of scent experimentation with sporting the pee I earned while testing to see how much pee a bare cloth diaper could hold without a cover. The answer, 1 round.