We've crossed yet another threshold of parenthood. We left the hospital yesterday with instructions to bring back a sample. They had enough poop for the in-house lab tests, but there wasn't quite enough to send out for more tests. Though we waited all day yesterday, no more was forthcoming (which was actually a relief, given the morning he'd had). We had a few almosts today, and then tonight, during his bath, he yelled for both of us. The hospital sent us home with a tray for over the toilet and a specimen jar and biohazard bag labeled with his info. Without getting any more graphic, let's just say that I had a very gross job to perform and I'm glad there were disposable gloves on hand. David handled delivery of the grossness to the hospital immediately afterward. Dennis observed all from the tub where he returned after the Main Event, making the necessary "ewww" sounds to help my job along. He said "wow, I guess I am still a little bit sick!". Not that you'd have been able to tell--he played outside all day long and ate and drank normal stuff. He wasn't whiny or pitiful and was full of his customary energy. Perhaps his rear end will soon get the message that he's well. At any rate, I'm glad there will be tests to make sure it was nothing really bad, despite what had to happen here to ensure that the tests could be performed. This was way more disgusting than a diaper change!
Tonight he's thankful for his family and "for all the drinks!" (the latter said while admiring his large bottle of blue Gatorade).
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