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July 20, 2004


Holy shit. I mean, crap.

If it's any consolation, Seth already has learned dung because of the book on Beetles includes a picture of two beetles rolling up a perfectly round, golden piece of poop. There is also a picture of the bombadier beetle, which he calls the butt beetle.

So don't worry, our son is well on his way to a rich scatalogical vocabulary.

Man, it's late and I'm pooped.

Poop is no big deal: if you aren't up to squashing lumps of diarrhoea down the laundry plug hole at 6am, or cleaning 2 nuggets and a puddle off the dinner table *during* dinner -- "I need the potty". Correction, you *did* need the potty -- well, you shouldn't be f***ing around in the first place.

Er, I've just had thought that I may have phrased the above comment badly; I hope it didn't come across as critical. It was only meant to be conversational/observational, one parent to another, certainly not directed at you.

*Note to self: do not post comments when tired and under the influence of red wine and Phenergan.

*sidles out of room*

*pops head back in* But it must have been so funny to see him dancing around the pile and happily practising his new word :-)

I have the greatest blackmail poop story in the history of the world. Sydney was six months old, on her changing table, cleaned up and ready for the fresh new diaper. I lifted those adorable dimply legs to scootch it under her cute bottom, tickling her wittle tummy as I did so. And poop shot from her bottom, no lie, six feet across the room and splattered the wall, her crib and her daddy. Who promptly vomited. The only thing that would have made it better is capturing it on film. Oh well, I can still tell the tale to all prospective boyfriends. *evil laugh*

I bet you were thinking up poop puns while you were cleaning up all the poop. Nothing like aromatherepy for inspiration.

Andrew: Nah, I didn't take offense. I can kinda "hear" your sarcasm when I read. And what's Phenergan? More importantly, where can I get some?

Faith: Hee hee. Projectile poop. Bet you'll always cherish that memory of the Evil One.

Tee hee :-D If I'd waited until after Faith's story, I wouldn't have needed to apologise. What a story.

Phenergan is an old-style anti-histamine that has the side effect of, in me at least, extreme drowsiness. I take it each evening to control the eczema-induced itching enough so that I can actually sleep instead of lying awake all night scratching all the skin off my arms, neck and scalp. The downside is that I just can't wake up so well in the morning. This on a half-tablet dose. My wife makes odd comments about my habit of washing the tablet down with half a bottle of red, but what would a qualified toxicologist know about such things? Hmm?

I'm still trying to negotiate a deal with my stepkids regarding changing the new baby's diapers when he comes. My starting offer was $.01 per diaper, they're demanding $1.00. Talks have broken off for now.

Andrew: sounds like the almight Benadryl, which is often the only reason I sleep at all many nights. And is this the same wife who won't get rid of the hateful dawg that causes the excema?

Gooch: Sorry, but you have to suffer along with the rest of us. Nice try, though. Maybe you'll have better luck one day convincing them to babysit.

Phenergan's stronger, used to be prescription only but now over the counter. I once took 2 tablets in the morning, and remember that 1/2 bombs me out totally. Dear wife was in the early stages of pregnancy and horribly sick and tired. She had to sleep on the couch all weekend, so I was on duty with the boy. It was the hardest day of my life. I have been up for over 24 hours' straight quite a few times, usually having had no more than an hour's sleep beforehand, but I have never had so much trouble remaining awake as I did that day.

Dawg is a minor contributor to eczema; 4 cats are more of a problem; depression and stress bigger still.

Gooch: man, you can learn to be good at changing babies and even take some pride in your proficiency. Besides, as long as your lady breast feeds, they're really nothing very bad. Oh, except for when the little thing is teething. You will know this when your hair yellows and curls and paint peels from the walls. I do not jest.

Just when I was beginning to re-encounter anguish at my failure to experience parenthood...

Thank you. You've spared me at least 24 hours of gloom. ;)

Hey, N., glad I could help. Thanks for dropping by, and try not to step in anything.

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