But not only that. There is more to know about our day. For not only did our wee son shit upon our floor, he shat upon the floor three different times. In three different rooms. It was a veritable floor-shit medley -- a floor show, if you will. And in fact, even as I type this, Elliot is pausing mid-crawl to shit again, though this time, helpfully, not on the floor, because he is in fact wearing a diaper.
Why wasn't he wearing a diaper the other times? Well, the story is that he started things off with a substantial, long-awaited shit during the taxi ride home from the airport. We got home, changed that, washed him off, and gave him a chance to "air out" for a while, crawling around on the dining room floor nude and happy while we opened the mail. Because why would he need to go again? He's nearly 11 months old now, he's not a newborn.
This is exactly the kind of logic that can lead you to disaster three times in a row, because it looks just as reasonable the SECOND time, in fact, even more so! It's the kind of thinking that got Hitler invading Russia.
So to recap, Elliot scored five goals today -- he must have lost a couple of pounds, all told -- and three out of these five, as we said, went on the floor. And yet amazingly enough, we paid him back by taking him to the grocery store and spending many dollars on select organic fruits, vegetables, grains, dairy, and proteins . . . because we're planning on FEEDING him again. Can you imagine?
-sem & blwh