So I was on the phone with J this afternoon when Little J toddled past and I caught a whiff of that dirty-diaper fragrance.  I made a mental note to change him when I got off the phone.  J and I were discussing his holiday leave, so the call took awhile.  Meanwhile, Little J had sat down behind our big exercise ball, just out of my view, with a magazine (yes, my one-year-old likes to “read” magazines).

I hung up the phone and went to grab Little J.  I immediately saw the poop smeared all over his fingers.  I had barely gotten his name out when I noticed there was…stuff…on his lips and near his mouth.

That’s right folks, Little J had a taste of the poo.

Lovely.