When you become a parent, there are things you see things yourself that you had no idea were even a part of you. Pride in other's accomplishments, being excited about ordinarily mundane things, ability to adapt in strange situations, enjoying poop...
Perhaps I should back up a bit.
I got home a little bit ago and learned that H learned a new trick today. Karen described a diaper changing experience unlike anything I had ever heard of before. I was going to tell her about H's craptacular diaper this morning, which was very different from recent ones, possibly indicating that he's getting over an illness, or that recent adjustments to her diet were taking effect. Instead I got a very thorough description of her own diaper analysis.
After discussing color, consistency, and volume, she elaborated on what she could only describe as a 'poop bubble'. Apparently the little man passed gas (tech term: FLATUS) of a quite fecund variety. This resulted in a egg-sized bubble made of yellow, pasty poop. It wasn't so much the description, word choices or the event itself that prompted this blog post. Rather, it was the excitement in K's voice as she went on...
and on...
and on...
about the 'poop bubble'. So after much insistence, I took H-man upstairs to change his diaper myself, so that I might bear witness to the great and wonderful phenomena that is: the poop bubble. For me his diaper was practically empty.
Damn.
No comments:
Post a Comment