Gee Whizz

Now, I don't claim to have the experience of say, my mother or mother-in-law; but I think with five kids, I have earned my Captain's bars. There are a whole lot of bizarre, strange, disgusting, hilarious or whacked out experiences to which I can say "been there, done that, got the t-shirt" (you have been reading this blog, yes?).

But this is a new one, even for me.

I got done playing with the brackets this morning and indulged myself in a moment or two of Solitaire.

****Editor's Note
I continue to notice that most, if not all, of my disaster stories begin with me finally getting a chance to take thirty seconds for myself. Coincidence? I doubt it. I wonder what the message is, and who it is that's sending it?
****

I got up to fix chili dogs for lunch, and as I grabbed the pot from the cabinet, I saw the small form of Squizzle come toddling into the kitchen. I turned to the sink to fill the pot with water when I felt something splash my bare foot. I looked down and saw Squizz had toddled up to me and was giggling.

I thought he had slobbered on me, but there was WAY too much splashing to be slobber. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the boy had removed his diaper and was now PEEING ON MY BARE FREAKING FOOT!!!

Remember, I'm blind as a bat, so all I had seen was the boy's silhouette. Not noticing his diaper was gone might be a "Master of the Obvious" circumstance for most of you, but for me, it was improbable at best.

But not as improbable as my one year old son taking off his diaper, locating me, getting over to me, deciding at that moment that he had to go; then aiming, firing and hitting a moving target. Are you kidding me?
The odds...I can't even calculate.

Does that end things? Heck no. After Haggis stopped laughing at me, my father-in-law walked through the door and at the same instant, my sister-in-law called to ask what she should get Squizzle for a belated birthday present.

"A coffin" I said. "I'm gonna kill him."

"I was thinking something more along the lines of pants. What size does he wear?" She asked.

By this point I'm flustered beyond my usual madness. I couldn't have told you what size my own pants were by then.

"Hang on a second" I told her. "Haggis, what size are Squizz's pants?"

"Um...dad? He's not wearing any pants."

"Well no freaking duh! If he was wearing pants right now, I wouldn't be mopping baby pee out of my flip-flop, would I? I meant, when the boy DOES wear pants, what size are they?"

My sister-in-law and her Father both seemed to think something about this was amusing, because all I heard from them was laughter.

"He peed on you?"

"Yeah. Long story. Check the blog. It'll be up in half an hour."

Since then, he has removed his diaper again, tried to do it a third time, and then attempted to swallow a nickle.

Check EBay. The bidding starts at two bits.

Ahhh...The life of a stay-at-home Dad. I should have become a stay-in-Cozumel Dad.

I'll tell you one thing though. If the boy can hit me, he can hit the potty. This daddy just bought his last package of diapers!