Tonight, on the eve of Baduka's 4th birthday party, Daddy has succeeded in a first of his very own.
We had been in the kitchen for a little bit, preparing food for tomorrow, and the best boys were in the living room. Freshly bathed, comfywomfycozywozy, watching a movie, with bags of Froot Loops, and cups of milk.
They'd been quiet for a while, so I thought I'd check the damage they may have silently caused. The New Kid obviously poured an entire bag of cereal on the floor. As I was cleaning that up, I smelled poop. A lot of crappy crap, kinda poop.
Fearing the worst, I checked Baduka, nothing. Dizzy? Nope.
The New Kid. It didn't smell like his brand, so that's why he was last.
I went to take his pants off, and wondered why his pretty fresh onesie was soaked, and I could so easily, and clearly, make out the shape of his boy parts.
Daddy didn't diaper him after his tubby. Four years of tubby time, and Daddy forgot the most important part.
The Crap Catcher.
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