Toddlers are like oblivious suicide bombers. “Here, put this on,” their bowels whisper to their diapers. And then in totters the child, innocently bearing high-grade explosives. Once you reach down for a hug, it’s already too late.
And on a related note, here’s a letter I recently penned to my firstborn:
In the future, when I change your brother’s diaper, could you please refrain from intoning things like “dat cheese” and “macaroni cheese”?
Yeah, that’d be great, thanks,