Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2014 2:08:43 GMT
I was just about to finish giving my son a bath, when he stands up, starts bouncing, and I see a shadow fall. I’m thinking, “That didn’t just happen, did it?” But, it did. And, there it was, right under him, a perfectly shaped, smooth bite-sized shit. I panic for about half a second, but then my natural paternal instincts kick in. I scoop him out the tub, hold him over the tub, as far away from my body as I can, just in case, and do exactly what every other father would do in this situation: I call for my wife.
She runs in, sees the scene, grabs a handful of toilet paper, and removes the turd from the tub. If I had been alone, I would have taken my son out, put his clothes on, drained the tub, and hoped that it went down the drain. And, if it didn’t, and she came home and saw the scene of the crime, I’d say, “I don’t know. It must have been the dog.”
And that’s the story of how I found out that my wife is not only a better parent than I am, but also a better person.
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Post by Logo (The Horrorshow Freak) on Mar 3, 2014 2:28:57 GMT
I've heard this before. Awesome.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2014 2:41:05 GMT
I've heard this before. Awesome. Yeah, I pulled it off my Tumblr.
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Post by Logo (The Horrorshow Freak) on Mar 3, 2014 2:45:11 GMT
Oh. Gotcha! I knew you sent it to me before. Where's the sperm joke?
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