The Jasper Chronicles

The Journal of a Cynical Dad

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Ewwwww... Icky

I've always had a problem handling certain textures, in particular our cats' vomit and their magical litter box treasures. Everytime I had to deal with it I'd supress a gag.

Back when The Boy was just a fleeting afterthought ensnared in P's IUD, she used to chide me about it. "You know, if we ever have a baby you're going to be changing diapers. So you better get used to handling goopy [sic] stuff."

But suprisingly I'm fine with diapers, and spit-up, and vomit, and anything else The Boy manages to excrete from his body. I didn't build up my immunity, discovered my courage or anything like that. He's my son, and from the moment he was born I had no issues with cleaning him up. Afterall blood is thicker than water, or poo.

So after handling all the things he's served up to date, you'd think I could handle anything. Today I was cleaning up after a especially messy bagel snack. Wouldn't you know it, soppy, soggy, slimey bagel makes me gag.

Bring on the diapers, at least that I can deal with.