Fodder for the teen years

I never, ever thought I'd say this, but changing diapers is not really a big deal.

I was absolutely dreading the poo. And then I started changing diapers, and I'll be damned if what every single other parent has said wasn't exactly true.

When it's your own kid, it's fine.

It's a little weird, in that breastfed babies, at least in the beginning, have this yellow poo that looks like Dijon mustard. It even has those little brown grains in it. You could totally picture it on crusty bread with lettuce and ham.

I mean, if it weren't poo, of course.

These little brown grains are remarkably sticky. They get stuck everywhere, and you kind of have to scrape at them, very gently, with baby wipes.

I've realized that this kind of activity could be useful, you know.

Because one day, one day, when Jordan is a belligerent teenager, I am going to be fully prepared with the following.

That I not only wiped poo off his butt and smeared his anus with butt paste. No, not only that. I also scrubbed those little grainy brown mustard poo chunks off his little balls.

Nobody is going to want their prom date to hear about that.