by Lyndy Phillips, Laugh with Lyndy
One of my greatest blessings in life has been fathering my children, Lezlie and Taylor. Both are now grown, married and excelling in their careers.
However, at the beginning of this fatherhood thing it was, well let’s just say I would not have won Father of the Year. I have a confession to make, I don’t tolerate baby fluids very well (dark matter or otherwise). And guess what babies are full of? Yep. Dark matter, and lots of it.
My daughter’s first diaper change took me, oh, about 25-30 wipes. When my son came along, I was better but still not a fan of changing dark matter diapers. I tried talking my wife into changing him once a week. That didn’t go over too well.
One morning around 3:00 am, it was my turn to get up and change the crying baby’s dirty diaper. And man was it dirty. You’d thought a grenade had gone off in this little man’s intestines and all dark matter was caught by the diaper. Which I should be thankful. A friend of mine woke up to his child completely covered, head-to-toe, in dark matter because not only did the grenade go off, it blew the diaper off as well. All he could see were two little white eyes. Dark matter was everywhere.
If that had been me, I would have called 911, let the firemen save the baby and destroy the
sheets…pillows…well, the whole bed.
As I was changing Taylor’s 3:00 am dark matter diaper (and gagging), I noticed a few words on the package of diapers that stood out like farmer’s legs at the beach. My prayers had been
After getting Taylor changed and put back to sleep, I grabbed the package and ran to share the “good news” with my wife. She was not happy that I woke her and could not understand what I was so excited about. I told her to look on the package and read what it said.
She didn’t get it.
So I read it to her, “It says they hold 25-32 pounds.” And then I exclaimed, “My once a week prayers have been answered! Fill ‘em up!”
Bring on the grandkids!
Until Next Laugh,