My son, Seth, has hit that developmental stage where the mere thought of losing sight of his mother, sends him into a psychotic episode rivaled only by that of Ms. Blair of Exorcist fame. This morning, in order to avoid having to start my day being serenaded by his howling, I placed him on a sheet on the floor, right outside of the bathroom, naked (to air out his bottom), and within ear shot of me bathing. As I showered, attempting to enjoy the small luxury of warm water cascading over my sleep-deprived bod, I noticed a disturbing yet familiar odor in the air- and immediately catapulted myself through the curtain to find my adorable 9 month old , happier than a pig, laying in the biggest pile of pooh I've ever seen emanate from his heinie. Worse yet, as I bent down to rescue him from the apparent error of his TERRIBLE mother's ways, I noticed, to my horror, that he had been sampling the goods, so to speak, evidenced by the smears of fecal matter around his lips. MY BABY ATE HIS OWN POOP, PEOPLE!!! WHAT KIND OF MOTHER AM I?!!! Luckily, to my surprise, there were no dire consequences for this misbehavior- no ecoli induced vomiting or, (gasp) death, as I had initially feared (I mean, don't people in third-world countries die from such contamination?) Word to the wise- don't attempt to practice any sort of hygiene once giving birth- at least not without your baby within arms reach and FULLY CLOTHED!!!