Samuel likes to hang out with some special friends at home.
Edgar and Max hang out with Sam in his nest downstairs. Edgar was given to him by his Auntie T and Max was given to Sam by Auntie C when he was in hospital having his gastrostomy to keep him company.
Grannie Bear was knitted for Sam by, well yes you’ve guessed it, his Grannie and she looked after him when he was in his cot in NICU. Grannie Bear stays up in his cot (also known as The Cottage) and looks after it for when he comes up at bedtime.
Sam and The Gang.The coolest gang around.
Sam with his boys: Edgar (the elephant) and Max (the dog)
Sam with Grannie Bear (in NICU)
I wasn’t sure at first whether I was going to post this but then I thought what the heck you are all parents so can’t be put off by a bit of poo talk.
The story begins over at Auntie C‘s house. I decided to pop over there with Sam for a few minutes as we hadn’t seen her for a while and I wanted to drop off a copy of our new spare key. As usual I hand Sam over to Auntie C for cuddles and she settles into the chair with him. Auntie C has a lovely dog called Max, he’s a white (remember that he’s white) American cocker spaniel and extremely cute and really nice natured and he had come into the room and settled down at Auntie C’s feet.
Then it happened. It was like an air raid siren. The noise from my son’s bottom was nothing like we’d ever heard before but there was no time, Auntie C immediately lifted him up and said that he had leaked on her. But no, worse was still to come. Not only had Samuel’s poo broken out of his clothes, leaked onto Auntie C but also gone onto her (new) wooden floor but managed to splatter Max in the process! The poor dog had poo all over his head.
I of course hadn’t brought Sam’s changing bag with me, typically, as I was only expecting to be five minutes and thought that I’d be safe for a little while before the next nappy. So Auntie C’s daughter rushed into the kitchen and got me a large plastic bag to wrap around my son’s lower half to avoid it getting all over me while I carried him back home.
The picture I will never forget is as I walked out their front door and looked back, apologising for the millionth time, Auntie C was there with a wet sponge in hand cleaning my son’s poo off her (white) dogs face.
My son pooed on a dog. Fact.