I know. I know. You have to be asking yourself, “What’s going on with Luca’s poop?” I’m sorry. I’ve been remiss at not giving regular updates about the production and disposal of his feces.
Well, it’s getting better. Through the Poopatorium.
If you’ll recall, his whole issue is he has an irrational fear of letting go. Letting loose the moose if you will. So he keeps it in and walks around with a really scrunched up face.
But here’s the thing. We’ve been giving him daily dose of enough laxative to take down the Hoover dam. So physics and chemistry are against him.
So to alleviate his fear, Diana devised a safe place where he can do his business. It’s called The Poopatorium. Or otherwise known as her shoe closet.
A week ago, Luca was in agony and Diana said, “Hey Luca, let’s just go in here for a while. This place is called The Poopatorium.” Luca reluctantly agreed to check it out. Apparently the sight and smell of women’s shoes was more than enough to release the hounds and we had blissful and rancid success. In hid diaper, thankfully.
Yes, I am keenly aware that we’re going to cause him women’s shoe related issues later in life. But first emotionally damaging things first.
The only bummer was when Luca wasn’t near our bedroom. Or near women’s shoes. He’d get panicked and clench up again.
But Diana (if you haven’t figured out she’s brilliant by now, shame on you) came up this this simple plan: She would simply say the Poopatorium moved for that day to wherever was feet from Luca.
Luca would say, “Mommy! I have to go to the Poopatorium!”
And she’d reply, “Oh well you’re in luck. The Poopatorium moved to right here under the picnic table.” Or, “Hey, the Poopatorium is in that playground slide over there.” Or, “The Poopatorium is in Dada’s closet for a change.”
So thank you, magical Poopatorium. You’ve saved our son from major physical, if not mental distress.
p.s. The Hamann Eggs family just got more kick ass. My brother Dave and his wife Jolene just welcomed their son Ryker into the world.