December 4, 2011

D Is For Double Standard (alternate title: W Is For Watersports)

Em is the only person in the world who can pee on me, puke on me, drool on me, sneeze food on me, and leak poop from her diaper on me without invoking the inner demons and triggering an outpouring of all the cuss words in my vocabulary (you don't know R-rated language until you've gotten me riled up). Don't get me wrong, it's not that I like watersports (Warning: really gross content and photos. I did not know until now that this word existed.) or having any other types of another's bodily fluids on me; it's because she's a baby and doing these things involuntarily that she gets away with it. That's reality, the end.

My mother, on the other hand, says gushingly, "It's different when it's your child!" as if you're supposed to like your kid's piss or not mind the smell of its shit. Um, no. I still hate it but I don't hate my baby. I deal with the grossness as best as I can because I don't want my baby to stew in her own messes, get used to being filthy and smelly, grow up to be the stinky kid at school that no one likes, and then become a social misfit.


Plus, I love cuddling with Em and it's so much better when she has that clean, sweet baby smell! The cleanup / wardrobe change is totally worth the temporary sensory overload. However, if someone else's bundle of shit joy had a leaky diaper, I'd be handing that smelly bundle to its parents for damage control.

Where do you draw the line at disgustingness and call for help?


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