This dad's account of his daughter's "category five" poo explosion is pure gold.

It’s a story that will be undoubtedly told at little Alessandra’s 21st: ‘The time you covered yourself in your own poo and smeared it all over your bedroom.’


It started off a good day for Jesse Mab-Phea Hill in Nebraska in the US.

“Dropped the boy off at school, worked out, let the dogs outside and began chilling like a boss in my man cave in the basement,” he posted to Facebook.

“Mayra was out teaching her workout class, Alessandra was asleep in her room.”

That was until Jesse decided he wanted some chocolate cake, which they’d made for his son’s Cub Scouts a few days before. He ran upstairs to get it and that was the beginning of the end of any thought of chocolate cake.

“As I’m going upstairs I smell something foul. I scan the basement from the stairs thinking the dogs dropped a deuce before I let them outside. I see nothing… And then my blood runs cold when I realise the stink is coming from the upper floor.”

He ran to his daughter’s room and walked straight into a Jackson Pollock-style horror set.

She was covered.

Apparently there are seven reasons parents are tearing their hair out. (Post continues after audio.)

“There she is, standing at the baby gate, butt naked, holding her diaper, covered head to toe in her own crap,” the father-of-two posted to Facebook.


“I’m not talking a little poop here and there on her. I’m talking layered on globs of human faecal matter covering her arms, legs, face and HAIR.”

The room is a disgrace…

“Everything on the right side of the room is covered in steaming baby crap. The walls, the toys, the windows, the curtains, the play bench, the floor, the baby piano, my hopes, all covered in crap. It looked like a real category-five shit storm blew through her room.”

Picking her up with two fingers, Jesse takes Alessandra to the bath where he works to take “all the crap out of her hair, bottom of her feet and everywhere in between”.

“The whole time she’s in the tub she tries to touch me with her shit-covered hands and I scream like a pre-pubescent girl and dodge.”

As for the room and her toys and the curtains? The cleaning up took “two rolls of paper towels; five stolen gym towels; one bottle of pinsole; one bottle of bleach; one big bag of crap-covered toys and two and a half hours.”

If nothing else, Jesse says, it’s a lesson in life.

“Something to remind myself that, no matter what I’m going through, at least I’m not cleaning hot baby crap out of the gears of my daughter’s play set”.

So much for the chocolate cake.