Diapers and Wipers

I think its time to give you another sample from my book.  A fellow blogger recently passed through this section.  She then repeated it to her mother and they both had a good laugh.  So in summary, my book has the ability to bring you and your mother to a new level in bonding–a real relationship builder.  No need to thank me, just buy the book.

As a father raising infants and then toddlers, I was always looking forward to the day I no longer had to change diapers. I can recall other parents mocking and laughing because their kid was just one stage ahead of mine. They were done with diapers. I was still doing the changing thing. And then when the day finally arrived and my boys were done with diapers, I realized that I was not done cleaning up turds after all. It’s a little secret that nobody wants to tell you in advance. After you’re done with diapers you still have a good year or two of a little voice yelling from behind the bathroom door, “daddy, wipe my butt!” My mother (the Grandma in the next status update) told me this story and I had to share it. Mainly because misery loves company—especially when wiping dirty little butts.

September 16, 2009 at 8:00 am

Marcus Matherne: My niece yells from the bathroom, “Grandma, wipe my butt!” Grandma says, “You’re old enough to do that yourself.” She yells back, “But if you do it, I don’t have to wash my hands.”

Absolutely brilliant.

Buy my book–and no I won’t wipe your butt.

16 responses to “Diapers and Wipers

  1. Lol, I remember that part.
    Brilliant indeed.

  2. Nice to hear a Dad’s hands on version. Refreshing, in a gross kinda way!

  3. It is absolutely amazing what we will do for our children 🙂

  4. Well, you know I like your book and am enjoying it immensely. The book is really funny, and the timing in your writing is like a stand-up comic delivering lines. Everyone should buy your book!

  5. Pingback: The Voices in My Head | Breezy Books

  6. There is one consolation. I’m getting old. Payback is not too far down the road.

  7. My earliest memory is walking around the house with my underpants down to my ankles and a wad of toilet paper in my hands, looking for my mom and yelling: “Mommy! Wipe my butt!” No joke. Thanks for the memories.

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