My dad babysat Jude for an entire work day last Friday. A short scene:
[Me, calling home from work on lunch break]:
"Hi Dad. How has Jude been?"
Dad: "Oh, good. Getting to spend a whole day with him is different. He's just so... koosy."
Me: "I know. I wish I could be with him in the mornings. It's his best time of day."
Dad: "I've only had to change one poopy diaper, and that one just had a small, round little poopelcha in it."
Me: "Oh, really?"
Dad: "Yep. I brought the diaper to the toilet to shake it out, but when I opened it up the poopelcha was gone."
Me: [Silence] ..."The poop wasn't in the diaper?"
Dad: "No, it must've fallen out somewhere."
Me: [Silence] ..."So there's a piece of poop upstairs and you don't know where it is."
Dad: "I guess I'll have to go back up there and find it."
Me: "Yeah. Do that."
It was hiding in a crack on the changing table.
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