The Mommy And Her Butt Paste

The tale I have for you today comes from a friend of a friend of a friend of mine. Names are completely irrelevant here, as I am clearly not ridiculous enough to have this happen to me, however, I couldn’t think any better names up, so these ones will have to do.


A couple of days ago, a little boy named Biggest was sick. But not so sick that he couldn’t think up interesting things to do. Given the fact that he’d spent the previous two days sleeping, he thought that he might get creative. That seems totally reasonable. Unfortunately, his Mommy forgot the diaper cream in the bedroom, and subsequently sent Biggest to play quietly. Biggest, being three, and Biggest, being a boy, got bored with just running his cars along his bed. He decided that they needed some sort of additional substance to drive through.

“Oh look!” He thought to himself. “Mommy left the diaper cream. That looks like a good medium, and since she left it here, I assume that the usual rules don’t apply to it today.”

So Biggest started playing with the diaper cream. He soon forgot himself, and added it to his comforter for what I can only assume was extra traction. Or maybe a type of simulated mud. We’ll never know for sure. Since, as has already been stated, Biggest is three, he didn’t realize that the diaper cream was meant to be used on human flesh only, and that applying it to his comforter was essentially putting glue on it. Mommy came in a little while later, and realized her mistake, albeit a little late. She refrained from getting angry, which, I’ve teen told, was quite the effort. Instead, she set Biggest about cleaning it up. He gave it enough of a go that Mommy put him in the tub with the glued-together cars, in the hopes that both would get clean.

It failed. Even Mommy didn’t realize how sticky this stuff was. Eventually, she gave up, and took Biggest out of the tub, adding the comforter instead. Everyone went to bed.

The next day, chaos ensued as Mommy attempted to forge a clean house out of the disastrous mess that the sickness had left. Mommy, driven nearly insane by the intensity of the dirt, forgot the comforter.

This morning, Biggest’s Mommy remembered the comforter, and finally set about cleaning it. Still thinking she’d eventually get it clean, she put it in the tub. Cold water didn’t work at all, since the diaper cream was waterproof, as all good diaper creams should be. 

“Well, hot water might melt it off.” She said.

Two hours later, after soaking in a bathtub full of the hottest water she could run, she finally sat down to scrub. Much to her dismay, scrubbing didn’t work. She used a brush, scrubbed the fabric with itself; nothing worked. At last, she admitted defeat, but not before trying a last ditch effort to rinse it with cold water, hoping that would be the answer. Disappointed, she wrestled it out of the tub. Since the comforter was full of water, it took quite a lot of effort. Biggest’s Mommy confided in me that it probably weighed at least 40lbs. She also mentioned that once she saw it laid out on her balcony to dry, that it looked pretty sad, and she might flip it upside down. I don’t recall her exact words, but I believe it was along the lines of looking like something else had happened to the comforter… rather than just diaper cream. She learned her lesson, though.

If you ever go to her house, ask her about the butt paste. She’ll probably snicker, show you the damage, and sheepishly shake her head. Then she’ll probably offer you tea, and ask if you’d like to hear the story. Be warned, she talks a lot, it could take a bit.


The Handler.


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