Tonight Richie dropped a bomb. That's the most polite way I can think of saying Richie pooped in the bath. We heard a boom and thought it was just gas but soon the bits were floating to the surface. So we had to mount an emergency evacuation effort to get Richie out of the tub as quickly as possible and remove any traces of contamination from the area (ie dump the bath water out, clean the tub and start over again). Richie took it in stride and looked surprisingly calm during the calamity but I thought he did have a bit of a "Oh my, what did I do?!" look on his face while bundled up in his appropriately named Winnie the Pooh towel! Apparently babies do this all the time and Paul said he was lucky that we made it 9 weeks before the bombing.
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