Changing my first kid’s diapers in the early hours of the morning, often became surreal. I would be going through a well practiced routine, in a sleepy haze, hoping to go back to sleep soon. However, every now and then something would happen that would jolt me to full awareness. The most memorable of which was when Lois apparently hadn’t quite finished, and launched a stream of poop projectiles as soon as I opened her diaper. I recall the following conversation when I returned to the bedroom.


“I changed Lois, she’s sleeping now.”

“<indecipherable mumbling>”

“Oh, by the way, everything in her room has poop on it”

“That’s nice…wait what? What does that mean?”

“Well, if it is in her room…and it’s a thing, then it has poop on it.”