X Games - Parenthood Edition

Saturday morning, I walked into my perfect daughters perfect room, to get her from a perfect nap. She was playing quietly in her crib, which is not unusual for such a perfect little child. Then I saw it, that is, before I smelled it. Grace, my perfect child, sitting in a lake of poop. Early on in her life I choose the perfect diapers for a perfect daughter, but there in no diaper in the world that could have withstood this monster. I immediately started screaming for reinforcements. As Jared came running up the stairs, I was carrying Grace (at arms length) down the hall. Daddy smelled it before he saw it. I tossed gently placed Grace into an empty tub as Jared followed. "There's just so much poo," was all that I could say. I can remember thinking, how can she not look deflated? It was a lot. Like 1/2 her body weight. A lot. Now Grace, like lots of kids, has had blowouts before, but this could have won a prize. You know, like those pictures of teeny tiny kids holding a fish twice their size? Just like that, minus the verage kid with fish, insert the perfect child with overflowing pamper. She was stripped, rinsed, and scrubbed cleaned. That was followed by the entire bathroom and her crib experiencing the same fate. Parenthood is not for wimps!