October 17, 2011

My Husband is Secretly Trying to Kill Me (with Diapers)

My husband and I frequently play a little game called Something Stinks. It involves him leaving something stinky where it doesn't belong and me sniffing around the house like a bloodhound and screaming "F@#%!" when I find it. After that, if you were a well-fed fly on our wall, you'd hear a foul tirade something along the lines of this (earmuff alert): "What the f@#%, dude?! There are garbage cans for shit like this! How many times do I have to tell you? Our house is not a f@#%ing barn! People live here!! Please don't raise our children like farm animals! Do you want us all to get cholera? Why do you do this?" Actually, I may have exaggerated somewhat - you wouldn't have to be a fly on the wall, anywhere within a hundred yards of our house would put you in hearing range.

The stinky somethings I find are not your run of the mill dirty socks and half-drunk glasses of milk souring in the sun; they are nasty nappy landmines. Common mine sites include the floor next to the change table (even though there is a diaper pail there), beside the tub (even though there is a garbage can in every washroom), the living room floor (even though there is a diaper pail in the room), and the sofa (WTF? Watch where you sit!), but I have to be vigilant as I receive intel of new locations all the time. If I didn't locate and dispose of the diapers, they would remain untouched for days, the only changes being the increasing stench and number of diapers in the piles. That is, unless the girls disturb them. M knows to stay away, but sometimes the mines are unavoidable when rushing to the potty. Em, with her newly acquired mobility, crawls through the minefields like a kamikaze minesweeper. After gruesome accidents involving diaper face washes and diaper-gelled tootsies, I now conduct a thorough sweep and reclamation work (disinfecting) before letting the kids enter a new zone in our home. The bathrooms take the most time as the floors are carpeted not only in dirty diapers, but bio-hazardous bum rags.

Strangely, the most common mine site is on top of or beside a garbage can or diaper pail.

There can't be much satisfaction in that for K because it doesn't take me long to find the stinkies. Why, then? He forgot how to open the bin? Or, he practiced aiming, couldn't get it in and gave up? The hole is way bigger than another hole he has no trouble getting into (why do you think our kids are so close in age?)! Further, he used to play college basketball, so shooting baskets in the trash bin should be a piece of cake. The reason, my friends, is that he is secretly trying to kill me. Whether the diapers are near or far from the garbage can doesn't matter because he knows that I take issue with the stinky somethings not in their rightful place. He knows that my compulsion to dispose of the dirty diapers will overcome my fear of contracting ailments inherent to bum cooties (I do not have OCD, I do not have OCD, I do not have OCD.). What he doesn't know is that I wear protection!

Then again, he may be on to me... One day last week, K decided to up the ante and put M's used Pull-up on the kitchen table. When I asked him what the hell the Pull-up was doing there, he looked at me with an evil glint in his eyes and said, "It's only a pee diaper".

By those standards, I should wash the dishes with the toilet brush! And perhaps the children should just stop using diapers and Pull-ups and do their business all over the floors and furniture since that's where their crap ends up anyways! I think this new level of disgustingness is Plan B: He's hoping I will get so worked up invoking the inner demons that I'll stroke out and die. Well I refuse to give him the satisfaction of that happening!

What to do? I've tried making diaper disposal fun, leaving the lid off the garbage can, and leaving snide notes to no avail. I think the only solution is to potty train Em right away. Seven months isn't too early, is it?

Some may argue that K is simply trying to get out of changing diapers, but since I lectured him on the dangers of staph and E-Coli bacteria, he enthusiastically volunteers to change diapers every chance he can get. If this isn't solid evidence he is secretly trying to kill me, I don't know what is. Is it too early to look for a lawyer or do I have to die already?


I wonder if the police would be able to prosecute homicide via diaper? It would be a difficult case to prove.

If it makes you feel any better about the diaper-kitchen table phenomenon, we had our son circumcised on our dining room table. My husband vetoed my idea of getting a "disposable" card table for the mohel to use for the Bris (we were carrying two mortgages at the time, but I suspect he would have thought it was crazy even if we weren't trying to save money). I requested we cover the table entirely with cardboard that we could then burn, and I believe I was vetoed on that one, too.

The only concession to my fear that I would be thinking about winky-slashing every time I ate off of that table for the rest of my life was that we put a brand-new twin-size sheet over the table as a cloth. We don't own a twin size bed. But guess who will be the first family member to have a twin bed?

That's right, the one whose winky was slashed. We'll probably end up inadvertently covering his bed with the circumcision sheet one day when we are low on clean laundry and I just want to make his bed. I want to make sure he's got plenty to talk to the therapist about in 25 years.

I think he may be in league with my husband... we too have issues in this area. :)


Hi! Stopping by from MBC. Great blog!

Have a nice day!

Stopping by from MBC. Love the blog. Glad to know that my husband isn't the only one who does this. I took over full time diaper duty and hate to even ask him to change a diaper because it grosses me out. lol. Maybe that's their plan all along?


Oh boy! I am fearful if my husband did something like this then I wouldn't handle it so well!

@Emily, it would be hard to prove which is why I'm documenting all the evidence here! LOL! Just had to share our inside joke - every time my husband does something gross, I ask him if he's secretly trying to kill me. Lately I include the kids too since he's tried to give them food that sat out all night or stuff that fell on the floor. Your Bris story/slashed winky story cracked me up. You have to record that somewhere for your son when he gets older!!

@Ashley, if your posts suddenly stop, I will know why.

@Veronica, thanks for visiting! I am going to visit you now!

@Tori, sorry to hear you took over diaper duty. I refuse to even tho my husband's methods of disposal are non-existent. You need to invest in a mask and get a dedicated pair of diaper-handling gloves! Am going to visit your blog now. : )

@Sean Marie, how did you train your husband so well?


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