My Dad looked at me, handing my 10 day old son to me, “Woah, this fella’s a little ripe!”
I took my son from Dad, “Ripe?”
My wife, Deborah, sitting on the sofa in her house robe, next to my mother, explained, “He pooped in his Pamper, dear.”
I stammered, “Oh! Ripe!”
Dad looked at Deborah, “Lemme guess, he ain’t changed the baby yet.”
She nodded, “Not even once.”
“There ain’t no time like the present!” he announced, heading toward the baby’s room.
Deborah motioned me to follow Dad. Mom was laughing. “I’m gonna like bein’ a gran’ ma!”
Dad stood me next to the changing table. “Put the little fella down.” I did. He handed me a clean Pamper, the baby wipes, and a little blue plastic bag. “Take off the old one, put it in the bag, clean him up with the wipes, put the wipes in the bag too, then put him in a clean one.”
I set the wipes down, opened up the blue bag, and pulled the tape straps on his Pamper. “Holy shit!”
Dad laughed, “Yep. That’s what it is.”
“It’s green!” Dad just nodded, “Like, like…”
“Baby shit,” Dad finished my sentence for me.
He talked me through the changing process, then he told me, “Do this every night before you put him to bed. It stinks. But it’ll show her how much you love her.”
When we returned to the family room, Dad declared, “Now he’s a real man!”
I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 67. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.