That Moment When...

You're sitting on the couch feeding your outrageously cranky 7-month old baby and she's only squirming around a little and not actually trying to roll over in your arms because what is life unless you're rolling over, Mom and then you look up and your 2-year old is curiously looking at the poop on her fingers.

*deep breath*

The baby is only halfway through her bottle so you know screams are coming and urp is probable so you're resigned to that but if you lay her on the couch next to you then she will immediately flip off and conk her giant noggin on the wooden floor and that really can't happen again - yes, again - so you lay her down and hook your leg around her as she desperately starts clawing at you trying to hurl herself to the floor while you reach towards the child who is digging for another handful.

*meditative thoughts*

Stretch your arm out while channeling ElastiGirl and grasp the stinky 2-year old by the wrist just before she wipes it on her shirt and gently lead her to the couch where you lay her in front of you and contort yourself to grab a wipe to get all visible poo before standing on your head to wrench a diaper out of the end table - thank The Lord, you refilled it - and calmly change your daughter while holding the snarling baby back with your calf.

*calm blue ocean*

Kiss the stinker and release her to the toys while picking up the baby who has now urped on your leg - but at least it's not the couch - and plug her gaping maw with the bottle behind your head.

Realize that bathtub gin did not come about because of Prohibition but because of desperate mothers needing a bigger receptacle.