Poop!

Modern diapers are amazing. They'll absorb a volume equal Lake Michigan, and you really have to check a kiddo's diaper before you know it's reaching capacity. But that's for wetness. Solid diaper cargo announces itself.

When we smell poo smells, we go straight for the Babyfish's diaper, pull back her waistband, and give her a quick visual check. She knows the drill, and she's learning new words and new skills every day. Lately, she's learned to tell us that she needs a change, which I'll admit is pretty convenient. "Poop?" she says, with an expression that begs for affirmation. She's really proud of her words and what she can do with them. And when she announces poop, we pull back her waitband and give her a quick visual check. She's normally pretty accurate.

Fast forward to New Year's Day. I (The Daddy) was laying on my side on Superkid's bed, playing with both kiddos. I was laughing, and forgot to mind my exhaust, and... out came a little noise and a little smell.

The Babyfish froze, looked at me and announced with wide-eyed earnest: "poop!" I kept laughing, head down. I heard her run behind me, and I felt one little hand in my back and then the other tugging on my waistband. She was giving me the quick visual check that she had learned was customary in such situations!

Superkid, who was still laughing from just the noise of my exhaust ("remember, no matter what anybody says..."), saw the whole thing. "Did you teach her that?" I asked. He didn't answer.