"Clean Up on Aisle 5!"

I often wonder how clean freaks survive the birth of a baby. The birth process is messy, the green poops are messy, the spit ups are messy. There's nothing about babies that is particularly clean...nothing. It really doesn't particularly bother me. Turner spits up and I wipe it on my shirt or on my jeans. He pooped down the front of my t-shirt during his first bath, I thought it was hilarious and followed up with a photo shoot. He has his "naked wiggle time" each evening and things are inevitably going to happen. I really don't care, I don't mind getting my hands dirty (or in this case my hair, face, chest and hands)!

When things get messy you get creative. We quickly discovered that Gus liked the sweet smell and taste of Turner's second-hand breast milk (a.k.a. spit ups). Initially we would shoo Gussy away and wipe up the spit up spot with a rag. But after so many times of doing that we realized it was easier and more efficient to let Gus clean up the mess for us!

So Troy has coined the term, "Clean up on aisle FIVE!" As soon as the words are out of his mouth (and sometimes sooner since Gus thinks he's Turner's personal 24/7 bodyguard) Gus is licking up whatever regurgitation Turner left behind. Pleasant, I know. But it's easy and Gus gets the job done.

Anyway, I was taking a shower this morning after a great row on the creek. I stuck Turner in the bathroom with me and shut all of the doors. He had to get creative and find things to do in the amount of time that it took me to get a shower and shave my legs. I was feeling festive...so I decided to shave my legs.

So he chewed on my rubber band, wrestled with the straps on my sports bra, climbed on the scale and drummed on the glass shower door.

I realized I had left my razor on the bathroom countertop so I had to streak from the shower and back as quickly as I could. In the process I left puddles of water in my wake. I looked over to see Turner on all fours face down lapping up the water from the floor...like a dog. I guess the old saying is true...monkey see monkey do.

That I can live with, but now I'm waiting for the day that he barks when the doorbell rings.