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One of Addison’s FOUR uncles came to visit this weekend.

Yes, she has FOUR- one, two, three, FOUR! uncles. James’ three younger brothers and my younger bro. One would think that they would be the ones traumatizing her, but it seems quite the opposite. Upon first meeting Uncle William when she was a mere six weeks old, we got to explain what “blowing out a diaper” meant. The horror and disgust on his face? Priceless. Who knew that such a tiny person could possibly have that effect on Uncle William.

Anyway, Uncle Ben was here visiting during his fall break from his frosh year of college. He is the youngest of the four, and thus did not grow up experiencing baby poop, and spit up, and drool, and baby poop, and diapers, and most importantly BABY POOP. Keep this in mind.

So as I mentioned, the Bug had been given formula, which did a number on the digestive system. Read: Lots of moaning. Lots of farting. Lots of grumbling, yucky, gassy belly. It was a smelly affair.

Needless to say, the little one did not have a bowel movement for seven, I repeat, SEVEN days.

Ben arrived, and we decided to do a day trip up to Malibu which meant a long day in the car, away from the comfort of home, and say, the washing machine. With the bazooka fully locked and loaded, James and I braced ourselves for an explosion, because obviously it would happen away from the house. Obviously.

And like clockwork. It did. In a capacity that I can’t even fully put to words. We had to pull off the 101 and manage the fallout while Ben sat texting in the front seat to manage his trauma at the sheer amount of baby shit happening in the rear of the car. I bet he is the COOLEST college kid on his campus.

What did you do for fall break? Party like a rockstar, huh? Yeah, well, I visited my brother, his wife and his baby, and she shat ALL OVER the car. While I was in it. Top that!

Way to traumatize Uncle Ben, Addison. Like he’ll ever come back to visit.

James and I were literally pee-laughing as our poop-covered child wound up baring her ass to many a tourist headed to the Griffith Park Observatory. Our budding mooner.

We ran through an entire pack of baby wipes, and the outfit was completely toast. And I found crusted, yellow baby shit under my nails hours later.

G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, yeah!