That tiger's gonna school that horse about how to count

Quintessential Flu-Stricken Baby

I thought BB smelled like puke this morning, but it wasn't exactly like puke. It was more foul, but similar.

Turns out it was the stinkiest diaper I have ever changed in my life. First off, it was stomach-flu diarrhea, which smells worse than healthy poo. Second, it was in her diaper for at least an hour or two, cause Megan and I could both smell it in the room, around the area of -- the baby.

We were all, "Did she puke? I don't see no puke. Did she puke? I dunno. Maybe she's laying on it?"

What we didn't know was that she was laying IN IT!! BAZINGAOW!!!

See, when poo soaks into a diaper, during those incredibly rare occasions when I neglect to change a soiled diaper for an inordinate amount of time, it starts to take on this wholly original, and wholly bastardic smell. Combine that with stomach-flu diarrhea, and we're talking about a concoction of teh most of foul, soul-dissolving stench.

BB was trying to let us know about it, by fussing and basically saying, "Dada, change my diaper instead of putting your need for sleep above my need for not laying in my own excrement."

But in her sickness, she kept falling back asleep, waking up cause of that shitty stink, and repeating the process.

It's too hard

Finally, at about 7, after I'd been up for a half hour or more, she was up, jolly, rested, not seeming sick. Her energy is low today, and I put her down for a nap an hour earlier than normal.

Though it's really stressful to have a sick child, it's nice to have more free time while she sleeps.

***

In other child news, my 3-year-old is currently starting to cry about having to dress herself. Now she's in her room, forcefully sobbing, "Please help me." I can hardly understand the words, they're so garbled in the stew of false drama.

In dealing with this crisis, I noticed something. I'll tell you how it went down, without a lot of exposition.

Ok, she's fussing, not wanting to get dressed, being contrary, and seemingly trying to get me to get angry. I think. That's what my natural reaction would be if I wasn't such a cool customer, anyway.

Then I took a slurful slip of my coffee, and I smiled and said, "Man, this is good coffee."

Lucy smiles, points at my cup, and says, "You love coffee, dada."

The secret formula for taking a kid out of a grumpy mood is to be happy yourself, unaffected by the kid's stupid bullshit figuring out the world and how to socialize.

I know, I know, it's not stupid bullshit. But it is a form of stupidity. I was at Big Time Brewery last night with some Spanish 103 classmates, which was really fun. It was a treat for all of us, who aren't really animales sociales, but evening degree students, who live real lives, and have partners and adult jobs and homes and cars.

While we were there, someone said something about kids being basically stupid, but she was totally joking, and we all laughed at how not fair that is, but also how true it is. Kids are stupid little fuckers, but it's because they know nothing when they're born, and the parents have to teach them.

So next time someone says kids are stupid, don't get all uppity and offended and pretend like they're not. Instead, get offended at how unfair it is to call them 'stupid,' and suggest that the offending party alternatively refer to children as 'delightfully ignorant.'