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A Baby Boy's Perspective of His Diaper Change

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The thoughts of a little baby boy while you're changing his diaper;

I don’t know about you but this whole diaper changing thing has got me baffled.

Can we start with diaper design?

Who is the genius who thought up the idea to have a guy like Big Bird sitting on top of my jewels?

What ever happened to the plain white version I heard my great-grandmother talk about?

Hold that thought! Here comes the Mom!

Do I smell poopies?

Wait for it.

She smells my tush.

Why she would stick her nose in my butt is beyond reason.

My dad simply flings off the diaper and finds the answer.

Once a poop actually rolled off the changing table and on to the floor like that poor meatball!

We kept that one in the brotherhood me and the Big D!

Pew!

Not like the bench in church.

My mom means stinky.

Good thing I understand her well enough to know she’s not trying to insult me!

She smiles at me.

I coo.

She is enamored.

I coo again.

Then I notice she is not multi-tasking and my droopy diaper is starting to irritate my sensitive skin.

I stop smiling.

She moves on.

Or so I thought.

Nope.

The onesie is unsnapped but now Mom is delivering major raspberries to my stomach.

It tickles.

I giggle.

Stand by for raspberries 2-7!

Poop is now inching up my back.

I stop giggling.

Hallelujah!

Diaper off!

Flying free in the breeze!

Whoa! Freezing cold wipe landing on the gems!

What gives? My baby cousin Noah has a wipe warmer!

Back up!

Ready! Aim! Fire (hose)!

Things (as in my privates) are being lifted (like a forklift) and moved left and right.

What is she looking for?

I remember.

Mom’s on ‘find the hidden poop under and between all the cracks and crevices’ duty!

She leans over to grab ointment. It’s my chance to grab something else.

Last week I discovered my feet.

Pretty cool.

You can fit about 2.5 toes in your mouth at any one time. The problem starts when you try to taste them through your socks!

But then yesterday for the first time I discovered something even better!

I think my mom noticed.

Make that I am sure!

She embarrassed me by telling my dad over dinner.

He got a huge grin on his face!

My mom smacked him on the side of the head.

Guys. Complex developing. Remember Freud?

Actually if I am to be honest here my mom seems more obsessed (in a cute way) with you know who but she will never be able to admit that to anyone so we’ll leave it at that!

Moving along.

May I ask how come none of you supposed baby experts ever include a chapter on diaper cream application?

I have been lathered up like a slippery slope.

There’s no way a rash could ever find his way even with GPS.

I go back to smiling.

She bends down and kisses my forehead.

My right cheek. My left.

My toes.

She smells so good.

I love her voice.

I love how she holds my fingers in her hand.

She shows me her necklace. That’s me in her locket hanging closest to her heart!

I bite her while she searches for new teeth.

She hums a tune from her childhood.

My feet eagerly dance along.

She picks me up and squishes me.

For the time being this sacred ritual is left behind.

You know what?

I think I’ve figured out why babies pee and poop so much.

Sure there’s biology involved but I believe there is something far grander.

It’s about getting glorious alone time with the best women God ever created and who could argue with that?

Originally published on Her View From Home

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