Yorkie's got the day off today, and boy am I glad he did! I'm waiting on a delivery from Kiddicare today and it's another scorcher so he stayed in in case it arrived while I took Jack for a walk to settle him down for a bit.
We went for an hour long wonder around the 'posh' housing estate, then over to the park, and back along the road. It was lovely! We even bumped into one of my former Avon customers who came over to admire Jack just as he woke up and desided he'd had enough and wanted some food.
So back we got, I changed his nappy and settled down for a long feed, sprawled out on the settee, feet up, Jack laid on my hip having a long feed. And then the 'foaming' started - the kind of farts that Yorkie and I know all too well as being not farts at all, but poohs.
He poohed and poohed and poohed, all the time feeding and looking me right in the eye. And then it happened! I can only liken it to watching a lava flow on the Discovery Channel. Pooh... great torrents of the stuff... flowing out of the side of his nappy, all over me and all over the settee. And cunningly, not a speck on his own clothing! He didn't stop feeding the whole time!
Yorkie looked over at my distressed cries of "Nononononono!" and was almost sick! He ran off to find something - anything - to mop up the pooh (in fact he han right past the stack of nappies in search of a tea-towel until I pointed out the nappies would be the best option!).
Once Jack finally saw fit to stop feeding Yorkie lifted him off me for a clean up and I went upstairs to slews myself and my clothes off. He'd even managed to soak me through my nice summer trousers and onto my knickers! YUCK! The settee's looked better too!
Still, you have to laugh, don't you