NSJ

As requested…

Ack! He looks like a boy! What happened to my baby???

Dear diaper manufacturers of the world,

I know you have invested a lot of money in the concept of “absorption.” I realize your diaper can hold over three 40s of Colt 45 without problem. And while I’m amazed by this scientific achievement, this feature is not what I need out of a diaper.

To be honest, I’m not worried about pee at all. I’m a parent for Pete’s sake. I’ve been peed on more times than I can count. Pee is nothing to me. I laugh at pee. Not to mention, I don’t need to leave my kid in a diaper for 48 hours. I travel with more infrastructure than most armies. I am not short diapers. I’m not short places to change diapers. I can change my kid’s diaper with one hand, riding a unicycle, while doing shots of tequila.

So what do I care about? What do I need from a diaper? A industrial strength poop seal. Poop is my kryptonite. Poop gets on my cloths and never leaves. Poop often smells worse than napalm, and can take paint off walls. Poop has made my eyes water. So when I go to change a diaper and find that my child has poop all the way up his back, it makes me cranky. When I lay him down on the changing table, and find he is taking a poop mud bath all the way to his wrists, it makes me unhappy. When I find Hazmat has shut down access to my house because of an exploded toxic poop diaper, I’m not having a good day.

So how about it? How about we focus on the real problem here? How about if we fight the poop inside the diaper, so we don’t have to fight it outside of the diaper? I don’t need you to absorb the next flash flood. I don’t need the diaper equivalent to the seventh razor blade. Just keep that poop contained. Please. Do it for the children.

Yours,

Scott Johnston

My sis is in town to visit “us” (read, Niko). The four of us hit Cascal on Friday night for Tapas and Sangria out on their patio. We met Jul’s friend Erin and her husband Mitch (visiting from Vermont) at the Slanted Door in San Francisco on Saturday. You just can’t beat their cellophane noodles with crab. Niko grabbed our waitress’s ass while she was serving us drinks. I was unsure how to react. We got to meet the newly arrived Zadie Kraus on Sunday. She is beautiful, very tiny, and already has more hair than me. We also took the boy swimming to round out a busy weekend.

Fiona, Crystal, and Tom were nice enough to have us over for their Memorial Day party. Fiona and Niko got some quality time together. I see babysitter potential. We swam, we drank, we ate, and I scarfed ten oatmeal raisin cookies. Yum.

No travel, few plans, good times.

What is it about babies that shifts everything I say to the third person? It is like they have a third person suggestion field around them.

Before: “I need to get another cup of coffee so I can remember my name.”
After: “Dad needs to get another cup of coffee so he can remember your name kid.”

Before: “Jul, have you seen my keys?”
After: “Niko, where is Dad? Where is he? Point to Dad.”

Getting bigger, but still little.

Grandma Pat and Grandpa Jere (a.k.a. Mom and Dad) trucked out from Michigan for the day Saturday (because they are crazy like that). We got a chance to try out Mom’s new fancy camera, and hang at the park Saturday morning, before we headed over to Raj and Suzanne’s house.