There's "solid" and then there's solid. Today I had my first solid poop, with actual form and structural integrity. A bona fide turd that you can pick up with your fingers like a Tootsie Roll. And Dad would have done exactly that and taken it to show to Mom, but I talked him out of it. Some tidings trump sleeping in, but I doubt this is one of them.
Sorry, no photo of this one either.
If you think two poop stories and a barf in three days is a bit much, you're in good company. It's all my editor's fault. This is probably the end of the line for scatological milestones until potty training begins.