Monday, May 25, 2009

This Too Shall Piss 3/2009


In the course of buying supplies for our babies, I discovered that upping the diaper size also means more cost for less diapers per box. And as it turns out, six kidneys a lot of pee makes. My kids are peeing machines. I started to second guess myself at one point on whether or not I fastened their diapers correctly when they woke up damp to the neck on their backsides. I mean, how hard is it to attach a piece of fake Velcro across their hips?? I know I’m new, but gee whiz. Have I lost my coordination?

If we aren’t quick enough, well, let’s just say with two boys, we have discovered the fountain of youth. Once I took the time to marvel at the weight of my son’s pee-filled diaper. He was giggling away (sometimes I wonder what they find funny), and ended up with an impromptu drink from the fountain. Is this what they mean by ‘potty mouth’? Our couch has gotten watered pretty well too, as it resides near the changing table. I keep wondering if it will grow or sprout weeds.

Speaking of potty mouth, I was never big on cussing – in front of other people. Though I grew up in L.A., and learned to drive on the freeways just as the population, and hence the traffic, grew in epic proportions, in my own car and space on the road, I cultivated my inner truck driver to not be so inner. I couldn’t hear my passengers or the radio for the words that swirled in my head and sometimes exited my mouth if someone dared to change lanes – in front of me. What does this have to do with poop?

Well, despite my aptitude in temperamental vocabulary, my husband encouraged me to express my language abilities more freely. He chuckled as I timidly blurted out occasional curse words. Six years and four children later, there is far too much crap flying in our home. Literally. Many a foul word perches on my lips with the threat of escape as I often find myself nauseated by our odiferous disgusting! diaper pail. It makes me want to drop a bomb myself (one that starts with “F”). I hold back a little by nature, so all I can bring myself to say is, “P-U!” My son finds this very, very funny.

Having read (and experienced) your share of “Adventures in Excrement”, I am sure you are all cringing by now. Sorry, but I can’t stop. Everything here is exponential. My husband mocks me that for someone who hates touching toilets and cleaning bathrooms, my ability to wipe asses and help the babies poop without blinking is shocking. Really I just want to get it over with as fast as possible. I told him I hope I never have to do it for him. He stopped laughing.

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