At the old HamannEggs, we do a pretty good job marking Elijah and Luca’s milestones. First words. First home invasions. So many first bodily functions. We aren’t that good at marking down the lasts.
I’m not sure why I keep referring to myself as “we.” HamannEggs doesn’t have a staff. It barely has one functioning writer.
Last night, when I was laying in Luca’s bed explaining to Eli that he was officially the meanest person in the world to his brother, I realized that neither one of them were wearing diapers. And hadn’t been wearing diapers for months now.
Diapers have been such a major part of their lives since, well, the day they were born. Diana doesn’t wear her wedding ring as often as those guys wore diapers.
I like to imagine there is a section of our local landfill dedicated to the Hamann boys. A Brownstone-size pile of poopy d’s.
Shouldn’t there have been more fanfare marking the end of this era? I feel like I should start a fire in our fireplace and create a funeral pyre of diapers. I don’t think that will work because: a) Our contractor is reaching the two week delay mark. 2) Fire can’t hurt diapers. Fire just angers diapers.
So let’s just pretend today, June 2, 2015 was the last day either Eli or Luca wore diapers. I’ll miss you, ones that leaked in the leg. I’ll miss you, ones where the little fastener fell of and you had to throw it out. I’ll miss you, ones we had to duct tape to Eli to keep him from removing. I’ll miss you, completely and utterly useless swimming ones.
But most of all, I’ll miss the photo of the overly enthusiastic boy on the pull-ups diaper box. I rest easy knowing how this photo, that your stage mom forced you to do, will follow you for the rest of your natural life.
Along with this photo of Luca.