Holy Sh*t!

DSC01508.jpg, originally uploaded by zoo.keeper.

Sunday night around 9pm Connor wakes up and starts making noise in his room. I'm downstairs on the computer and can't hear him. Bern is just getting out of the shower and figures she'll just ignore him since he's been asleep for an hour and will probably just fall asleep again. Then she realizes he's saying "pee pee, poo poo." Well, that's different. She takes him into the bathroom and off he goes. Apparently he's been storing it up like a chipmunk for a week or so because it's a non-stop poo-athon. You know how ants can carry something like ten times their body weight. It was kinda like that. I won't go any further.

At the same time all of this is happening, in fact, from the moment Bern went into his room, he has been talking. Talking and talking and talking. About everything and anything that's passing through his little almost 4 year old brain. We're talking a stream of consciousness monologue that would make James Joyce proud. He's talking so much that he demands Bern come down and get me so I can share his brilliant insights on everything. Keep in mind that while all this talking is going on HE IS STILL POOING! Coming out both ends? Ya, we know what that means.

Anyway, the epic diatribe/bowel movement eventually finished. We cleaned him up, put him back in bed and he fell asleep almost instantly. We'll miss him when the mother ship comes to take him back to his home planet.