It's your turn!

Yelled the good lady with a gleeful smile on her face.

I cast her a look that managed to combine annoyance, vinegar and eye rolling into one.

When I am not working, the good lady and I take turns changing at changing the little boom's nappy and he had just let out a long and loud fart.

No big deal... Normally. However today, his singular explosive poo that usually comes in the morning had not arrived. It was now afternoon. This did not bode well for me, who's turn it was to change him.

Added to the mix of stagnant horror that changing his nappy had now become was the fact we had just started weaning him. So his poos which were never the most pleasant things to deal with in the first place, were now fetid, sticky, greeny-brown things. They clung in ropes to his skin and the wipes and to everything you tried to clean him with.

It was horrifying and now it looked like Muggins McGinty, had drawn the short straw and caught the exploder today. Dammit!

I ventured over to the little boom like a timid mountain gorilla and gave his vicinity a sniff.

It smelled fine but that didn't mean anything.

I got all the changing jazz out and wheeked his sleepy-suit open and grabbed his feet in a firm grip before removing the nappy.

HA! No poo!

I crowed over my shoulder to the good lady.

She made a cow chewing mittens face.

Her disappointment that I didn't catch the big poo explosion was mixed in with the inevitable fear that as it was halfway through the afternoon, the next nappy of doom would be hers to change.

I turned round to face the good lady. Victory writ large on my face and blew her a raspberry with the utmost maturity.

As I did so another farty raspberry noise joined in, harmonising almost perfectly with mine.

The something wet flicked onto my face.

It was as if time had slowed to a crawl. The good lady's mouth was open and a strange deep BA HAAA HAAA HAAA! was echoing from her cavernous maw as she pointed behind me.

My head turned toward the little boom as if through treacle. Finally, time caught back up with us.

Aiiiieyyyeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

I screamed in a high pitch that made the neighbour's dogs bark.

Someone appeared to have spilt a pot of greeny brown beef casserole over the little booms legs and my hand. And the floor. And there seemed to somehow be a bit on my cheek?

I managed not to faint. As I cleaned him and myself up I contemplated the good old days. You know, the days where I didn't walk about all covered in shit or puke.

The glory days.