It’s My Poop on a Sock, My Poop on a Sock, Baby!

I used to judge parents. My bad. All they wanted to do was talk about poop. That’s gross and it’s dumb. When you find poop interesting, something is wrong.

And here I find myself on the other side. I am not fascinated with poop, but it is important. Poop lets you know that things are going right with your kid. If a kid can’t talk and say, “Hello, Mummy. (my kid speaks with an English accent when he’s sick) My stomach does not feel right. Please help,” poop provides an important clue. It’s also hilarious. Nothing says, “gut-busting humor,” like poo.

Case in point: Yesterday we’re in a hotel. Poopy diaper needs to be changed. The traditional ¬†negotiations commence. It’s your turn. If you change this diaper I’ll…You’re closer.

We decide to do it together. I am on the ground changing the diaper and Husband is assisting me. Diaper is off with the dirty baby wipes in it. I am placing the new diaper under the clean butt and Husband stands to throw away stinky dipe. Except his socked-foot has caught on the diaper’s velcro-y fasteners. he is dragging a poopy diaper around by his foot. Awesome. He kind of freaks out. I dissolve into laughter. I know, I should have been more sensitive, but the look on his face was proceless. I am not a fan of poop. Usually Husband is hard to gross out, but this time, he was grossed out. Then he wonders if it’s on his…yes, it is on his sock. I laugh harder. Poop on your sock! Dragging poop around the room! I feel sorry for non-parents who never get to laugh at poop. And they probably feel sorry for me that I am laughing even as I write this.

Meh. Such is life.

Poop on a sock. Comedy gold.

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