Jan 28
I’m standing in the kitchen making sippies and I hear my son, who has stripped his clothes all off because he’s a nudist, toddling around the corner, his diaper making that little crunchy sound and his how-are-they-sticky little feet making that thwick thwick thwick sound.
“da?” (one da is me a double is dad)
“yes baby?”
“oops”
“oops?” i said without looking up. “that’s a new one, you’ll be reciting the dictionary by the end of the week.”
“oops”
“oops…very good Chibby…oops goes with uh-oh”
“da da?”
“oops…”
I look up and clutched in that sweet chubby little hand of his is a poop freshly plucked from his diaper which was apparently full of “oops“.
Oh, that must have been quite a moment. My daughter has started taken an interest in her poop these days. I wanted to try her at potty training but she still seems too young. So now I am just waiting for when she comes to hand me some from the good old diaper.
What a great word for what was in his hand – oops is not going to sound the same anymore! Ruth comes to me with her fingers on her nose saying “stiky, stiky” (stinky, stinky)