Pooparama

As my child grows and his appetite mirrors his development, his diapers double in weight. What was once a quick swipe of the bum is now a “Mop up on aisle 3!” For a while, W’s bowel movements were saved for the classroom. We had gotten on a reliable schedule of dress at home, dump at school. I’m sure his teachers cringe at the smelly explosions but, hey, that’s part of the gig in the infant room. Lately, W has been saying “Yucky.” It’s probably safe to assume he learned it on the changing table from one of his teachers. For the past few mornings, I’ve been the lucky recipient of his recycled edibles. It’s no mystery when he is laying the Holy Grail of all poops. The room is quiet and he remains relatively motionless, his face the color of a Santa suit. This morning was no exception. The diaper unveiling revealed, well, you know, and lots of it. The funny thing is, if I had someone participate in a smell test, they would be convinced it was a bottle of nail polish remover. Upon inspection, they would also be convinced that I was feeding him handfuls of birdseed when I know last night he ate turkey with gravy, corn, mashed potatoes and 5 animal crackers. When we were at the pediatrician’s office last Monday for W’s 15 month check up, he mentioned that our son’s appetite would probably start to decline. So far, no dice. In fact, recently at a parent/teacher meeting at W’s school the head teacher remarked at how such a tiny boy could consume so much food. His weight is in the 10th percentile but his head is in the 95th. I think it’s safe to say we’re feeding his brain.