What is grosser than gross?

Parents enjoy a higher tolerance for all things gross and disgusting. Well, maybe enjoy is not the right word, but we possess it and thank goodness we do! We have to. Parents would never survive the first year with those crazy colored poops, endless showers of spit-up, and the occasional urination (right after your first shower in three days) without it. I remember how I could not wait to stop using formula just because the smell turned my stomach. Little did I know that any formula –powder or mixed—smells like roses compared to the inevitable milk cup that finds itself hidden under the seat in the car.


Today on our way to the zoo I vowed that the instant we returned home and Hudson was sweetly in naptime dreamland I would seek out that very cup in my own Honda and burn it in the fire pit. Turns out no cup exists, but a particular nasty smell has taken residence in little man’s car seat. I decided to pop that bad boy’s cushy cover off and give it a run through the ole Maytag.
Bad idea.

I have always marveled at the collection of goldfish crackers, random toys, and just dirt that accumulates under his car seat. Yet when I took the seat cover away, I was floored by the contents in between the soft wrap and the plastic shell. A whole clan of mice could survive the winter on the remnants residing in the nooks and crannies of his plastic seat.

I might have clogged up our shop-vac with my cleaning. (sorry, honey)

Now, it occurred to me during the removal of said cushion that there were a lot of snaps and buckles holding that bad boy into place, so I should have just stopped and jotted down some notes. But no. Now I have a washed seat cushion which is naturally (?) a perceptibly smaller than when I removed it. I have no clue how to get this back onto the frame. Fantastic. It will be a nice clean blanket to cover up Hudson with if I don’t figure this out.

Oh well. The smell is gone. Yet, so is my desire to return to the zoo. Hudson took it upon himself to show a goat how much he loved the place by kissing it.

If you read that but didn’t quite throw up, you must be a parent.

The goat who got some love. (Notice: I think this is the same goat from my blog on 8-13-09)

Our friend (and Josh's Little through BBBS) and Hudson on the beloved train ride! Who cares about cheetahs when there is a choo-choo?!?!