Dads blogging about their babies’ poops is as natural as babies pooping. In both cases, of course, shit happens.
Addie stayed home with me today because, despite a healthy diet of fiber-ridden, doodie-inducing juices, fruits and veggies, she’s been a little backed up. For like... a few days.
About 8am this morning, did anyone else feel the shock-wave? The nearby houses melted and blew away, like in those movies where they test atomic bombs, so I assume most of you as far away as the suburbs at least saw the poop-tinted mushroom cloud.
Subsequently, here’s the text message conversation I had with Lisa, who was at work:
Lisa: YAYAYAYAY! Is she feeling better?
Me: Like a cute little baby pig in poop. She was singing “I Can See Clearly Now” when I found her.
Lisa: Oh thank God. I was so worried.
Yet another TMed conversation at about 11am:
Lisa: Whoa. Again? Really?
Me: Yeah, another healthy one. The color of evil, the consistency of sin, but the demons have been expelled.
Lisa: Have fun with that, Mr. Mom. Sucker.
And lastly, at 3pm:
Lisa: Is that supposed to be like a tsunami? You’re a better parent than you are a scatological punster.
Me: What can I say? It’s my duty.
1 year ago