when your day starts off with being squirted by a fountain of vile smelling five month-old's diarrhea, the day can only get better.
it didn't actually get on me, but that was only due to my cat-like reflexes in the face of projectile babyshit.
in case you're having a hard time understanding how that happened, we were in the midst of changing his already-runny-with-liquid-deuce diaper when he suddenly decided he wasn't quite finished. powerful colon on the lil' fella.
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