Never was such a day, than the day my daughter had her first real poop (you know, the kind that really smells up the room! EEEK!)
We met our match. The tiny thing we call our baby has created a masterpiece that is the poop. It was quite a feat…since it took her three days to muster up such an extreme ordeal, but alas, it arrived in silence. Only by the smell of rotten fruit smacking our nostrils were we notified of it’s arrival. I was numbed by the aroma of such a poop. I almost didn’t know how to handle it…where do I lay her?, not here, not there, oh no!, she is starting to cry, hurry, hurry! Panic began peeking it’s way through me, and I quickly diverted it into a place of motherly confidence. Now sing to her. “Hey this was really fun, we hope you liked it too…” OK, there, on the floor! The smell, the smell, it was biting me with it’s rabid teeth. I kept thinking of those old pictures where a mom is pinching her nose shut with a clothespin. In hesitation, I unwrap each side of the diaper and I start to pull it back. Centimeter at a time, I begin to see the severity of the situation. Disaster…Devastation…DOOKIE!
This post has convinced me once and for all to never have children. Thank you.