It's funny how guys like to tell you about the contents of a baby's diaper, as if you have never changed it yourself...15 times that day alone. If I had a dollar for every time Grant said, "Hey, come check out how full this diaper is!", I'd have enough for a pack of, well, diapers.
And his own father likes to throw around the word "blow out" a lot, even when it's just an above average enthusiastic toot from our little man.
But the best things I've heard about diapers have come from my dad.
When we were once deciding whether or not Jack had a dirty diaper, I asked him if his butt smelled. He replied,
"We have an understanding - Friends don't smell each other's butts."
Fair enough.
The next time he was to babysit Jack I asked him if he'd mind changing his diapers in my absence. His response,
"Of course not. But I only do 'front stuff'."
Luckily both agreements worked out and he only had to deal with the front stuff. Jack's a considerate fellow.
That actually happened with me and a baby I babysat throughout college. She was kind enough to never poop in her diaper the entire time I babysat her. Until, literally, the very last day I was to stay with her before graduating college, she left me a big old graduation present in her diaper. I, being the mature coed that I was, decided not to ruin such a winning streak and saved it for when her mom got home a little later.
But they say Karma's a bitch. I hope my first sitter doesn't leave one marinating for me!
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