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05 December 2007

Sandbagged

"Honey, your son just pooped so much his diaper exploded and his poop went up his back and and down his leg! His outfit & car seat are now disgusting!"

I'm sure a better man can resist the urge to rely on populating a Daddy Blog with impish explanations of exploding diapers in excruciating and somewhat humorous detail. How utterly predictable, I know.

But that only applies to better men. So here I sit, playing the part of the lesser man, describing the latest escapade in my son's Pooter of Terror. But wait, there's more!

If you read the description carefully, did you notice whose son has the loose and multi-directional bowel movements? Yep...mine. Now try this:

"Honey, our son just made the cutest face. He's smiling!"

Or even (when greeting people interested in our family):

"Yes, my son is 6 weeks old and I had natural child birth while driving a bus full of orphans through the mountains of Peru."

See? I've been sandbagged.

But that's okay. Really.

Feats of lesser importance deserve celebrations too and no child of mine should have to stand alone with a diaper that weighs twice as much as him, a booger that is as long as his leg or with flatulence that prompts a neighborhood evacuation and a Hazmat response. Now if we can just get him to time his, uh, pooter explosions when he is not in alone with his Mommy in the grocery store.

Discretion, it is said, is the greater part of valor (Shakespeare - Henry IV).....which he will also need, especially if he also gets my knack for gift giving ....

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