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mmcirvinMy father, who is visiting with my mother this weekend, warned me for many years that someday I would likely receive the karmic justice of being peed on at the changing table. People, know that this happens every time. There's something about being suddenly exposed to the open air that causes every well-hydrated baby to let loose. If you're quick with the diaper, you can trigger the effect and then catch it in progress, so to speak. But sometimes Marjorie fakes me out with a delayed release on the second open. It's a chess game and we're both still novice players.
It could be worse. She's a girl, which limits her range somewhat. Also, it turns out that baby pee at this stage is almost colorless and odorless, far less offensive than, say, cat pee, which is the Vilest Substance in the Universe and with which I have become far more familiar than I would like.
However, baby pee's nearly colorless, odorless nature carries its own problems, in that I am prone to underestimate the extent of the leak: I think the diaper feint worked, then I lift her up and realize that she's lying in a puddle.
This post is, note, the very stuff of Erma Bombeck columns. Or James Lileks columns, only Lileks would somehow segue through Star Trek and Simpsons references into a second half about the Left's inability to comprehend the magnitude of the Saracen menace. I am, instead, going to take the navel-gazing route and note that I don't really feel Jeff Vogel's sentiment that
It could be worse. She's a girl, which limits her range somewhat. Also, it turns out that baby pee at this stage is almost colorless and odorless, far less offensive than, say, cat pee, which is the Vilest Substance in the Universe and with which I have become far more familiar than I would like.
However, baby pee's nearly colorless, odorless nature carries its own problems, in that I am prone to underestimate the extent of the leak: I think the diaper feint worked, then I lift her up and realize that she's lying in a puddle.
This post is, note, the very stuff of Erma Bombeck columns. Or James Lileks columns, only Lileks would somehow segue through Star Trek and Simpsons references into a second half about the Left's inability to comprehend the magnitude of the Saracen menace. I am, instead, going to take the navel-gazing route and note that I don't really feel Jeff Vogel's sentiment that
Every moment I have which could be used as the punchline for a Baby Blues cartoon, a little bit of my soul shrivels up and dies.There might have been a time, maybe around 1990 or so, when I would have felt this way. Now I think more that the very reason this sort of kitsch does not qualify as grade-A humor is that it's easy, and that it's easy because it speaks to widespread general experience, and that one can't really avoid ever having widespread general experiences. If I were to write a comic strip for money, though, I still probably wouldn't go with this.
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O Lileks, you lost soul
Date: 2006-08-18 03:43 am (UTC)I'm glad to hear that hazmat control and other baby functions are within normal operating parameters.
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Date: 2006-08-18 04:42 am (UTC)That's a 24-carat phrase right there. I think fatherhood is going to be good for you.