Bowels 1, Parents 0…

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.

Boom.

Gasp.

Cough.

Tears.

And on a related note, here’s a letter I recently penned to my firstborn:

Dear Daughter,

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,

Daddy

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About The Codgitator (a cadgertator)

Catholic convert. Quasi-Zorbatic. Freelance interpreter, translator, and web marketer. Former ESL teacher in Taiwan (2003-2012) and former public high school teacher (2012-2014). Married father of three. Multilingual, would-be scholar, and fairly consistent fitness monkey. My research interests include: the interface of religion and science, the history and philosophy of science and technology, ancient and medieval philosophy, and cognitive neuroscience. Please pray for me.
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