Thursday, June 25, 2009
Business Trip Poop
Bad blogger. Bad blogger. I’m really sorry, loyal readers. Making the greatest commercial in the history of the world takes up a lot of my time. So hopefully this poop story will melt your heart and bring you to the verge of laughter.
Last Saturday afternoon, I arrived home from an errand and Diana was standing on the front porch, fuming. After assuring myself that I had in deed not forgotten her birthday, I asked what was wrong.
“How would you like to clean up some poop?”
Knowing Elijah was supposed to be napping, my heart sunk. And when I reached the top of the stairs, my nose sunk. My son, who I love more than life itself, had smeared doo doo all over the wall of his room. It was as if he was trying to communicate with me via hieroglyphics. Hieroglyphics that said, “I like to do things that make my father gag.”
We simply cannot keep this kid’s diaper on. It’s driving me crazy.
A couple nights later, Steve came over for beers and while we were watching TV, I heard the telltale sound of duct tape and diaper ripping. I ran upstairs and caught Eli diaper-handed.
I scolded him and explained that he was being naughty and needed to keep his diaper on.
He responded, “Diaper on.” We were on the same page. I re-applied diaper and duct tape.
Just as I was cracking open another beer, I heard it again upstairs. Riiip. I bounded up the stairs and lost my temper.
“No no no, Eli! Bad boy. Naughty naughty. You do NOT take your diaper off. I then gave him the silent treatment as I put his diaper and tape on.
He began to weep, knowing he crossed the line with me. I put him back in his crib and told him I loved him, but he was being naughty. As I sat back down on the couch, I heard him crying upstairs.
I fought every urge to go back upstairs and hug him and tell him he was the greatest kid in the history of the world. I felt terrible. I’m not the one who disciplines. I’m the horsey ride guy.
After what seemed like hours, he stopped crying and eventually fell asleep. The rest of the night I was distracted and not into hanging out with Steve. When he left, I crept back upstairs to look at my son. He was sleeping soundly, like an angel.
With his diaper off.