Another Gabe story

Yes, I am a mommy blogger.

I admit it.

I love to blog about my kids; especially, it seems, about Gabe. He is such a character, is at a great age, and says the funniest things every.single.day.

Like today.

Unbeknownst to me, Joe had already given Gabe one full cup of cranberry-pomegranate juice. When I woke up this afternoon, I gave him one, too. Then another (the boy was thirsty).

I was tired. Not thinking clearly. He asked for "red juice", and I gave it to him.

About thirty minutes later, Gabe says:

"Mommy, will you come in the baffroom with me and help me get a tiny fart out? I can't get it out...will you be wiff me?"

Now, I know mommies have lots of special powers, but this one? Umm...I told him I would come in with him, and we would see.

(A little background here: Gabe eats about a pound of cheese a day. He NEVER has loose poop. Quite the opposite, actually. I know, I know, a bit TMI, but you'll appreciate it in a minute.)

As Gabe sat down on the toilet and worked on his plumbing problem, I heard a horrible rumbling sound (remember the pie scene from Stand by Me? Yeah, it was kinda like that.)

Explosive cranberry-pomegranate diarrhea poop. Definitely NOT a tiny fart.

The utterly horrified expression on Gabe's face made me drop to my knees in laughter.

"WHAT WAS THAT??!! WAS THAT DIARREAR??!!"

I laughed 'til I cried...

Yep, Gabe, that was definitely "diarrear".