Do Me A Solid?

KNOCK-KNOCK
Who’s there?
My six monks.
My six monks who?
My six monks old baby, that’s who!

Can you believe it? Our little bloke has just notched up half a year on his nappy belt. Which makes me wonder if he’s still considered a baby or is he now a toddler? And what actually is the difference? Sources tell me a toddler is when he starts wearing velvet robes, a cravat, smokes a pipe and sips martinis. (“Sources” is a term used loosely for the voices in my head). And if that’s the case, Hugh Hefner is the luckiest toddler in town.

But it also means some chemical changes are going on. Namely…“fusion”. Now, before you break out the hazmat suits and confuse it with nuclear fusion, (mind you, I’m pretty sure some of his nappy contents would set off a Geiger counter), it’s also the state in which a liquid changes to a solid. (Not to be confused with WA, which is the state in which all your solids revert to liquid…that’s some heat, phew!).

Known to scientists as “solidifying”, known to parents as, “eating” and known to babies as, “remodelling” the kitchen. (See also: “How can I get this tiniest bit of food and spray it all over the walls, ceiling, floor, myself, mummy and daddy…without actually getting any of it in my mouth?”)… Or the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan…but with food.

Which means we now have the incredibly interesting and somewhat amusing task of putting different types of food in front of him and see what he does.

At the end of round one, the judge’s scores are as follows;

Banana – thumbs up.
Armadillo – who are you trying to kid?
Avocado – much easier to get out of its shell.
Sweet potato – big thumbs up.
Unsweet potato – whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, Willis?
Broccoli – thumbs down.
Broccolini – thumbs up.
(Maybe because when choosing which foods to eat, broccolini is so much easier to rhyme with “Eanie-Meanie”…)

And at this point, the clear winner by far is…

Apricots

And seeing as they have a laxative affect, it’s smells smiles all round for all of us. And all this mess has brought out my innovative side, where instead of trying to clean up all the food that ends up on the floor, his high chair fits perfectly into his wading pool. All he needs is a quick hosing down after meals. Only problem is, he’s not allowed out of his chair for an hour after eating 😉

That’s the rules…I saw it on Baywatch.

Explosive Stuff

Fifteen weeks of morning sickness, a cesarian birth, baby up chuck and spraying urinations, when it comes to secretions, it’s not often I get shocked.

But when it comes to “pooh”, Christopher Robin never saw anything quite like this.

Somebody call Triple “Oh-Ohh-Ohhh!”

The first “Oh” is when you open the nappy. The second “Ohh” comes when you see just how runny it is. The third “Ohhh!”…is when you realize the nappy contains only about one third of its natural contents and the other two thirds is distributed up inside his little body suit.

“For the love of god!!!”

Did our son just poop himself or did an A-Bomb just go off in his B-Bom? Holy smokes! It’s pretty clear the Jaws-of-Life are no match for removing his little clothes without incident and the nappy wipes chose to commit suicide, rather than tackle that kind of cleanup.

There’s only one course of action left open to take. We gotta take our little bloke out…

And hose that sucker down!

Or at the very least, get that kid in the shower…STAT!

How does that even happen? He hasn’t been alive long enough to even eat the amount that erupted from Vesuvius. Now I know how the dinosaurs died, trapped beneath a flash-flood mudslide of cosmic proportions. I’m surprised he even has any bones left. Wow!

I haven’t seen that much relief since “Band Aid” or when they finally cancelled Baywatch. If its taught me anything at all, I’ve learned to never underestimate my son, in any capacity.

And if we ever go missing, contact the nearest archeologist and be sure to dig for our fossilized remains beneath the biggest pile of you know what, this suburb has ever seen.

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