Girl knows how to work a diaper. Model of cinematic efficiency. Filled with the playing-it-straight facial expressiveness of Charlie Chaplin and scored by the quiet thunders of a squeaky freight train aurally colliding with a cute little tenor foghorn. Wants it changed in the next ten seconds or there will be shrieking involved. Shrieking that is heartbreaking yet comical in its complete intensity and earnestness. Does not like wet or soiled diapers, to use the most euphemistic term possible. Apparently a certain brother-in-law of mine once enjoyed the warmth that full diapers provided and would become quite irate when clean fresh ones were forced upon him.
Not Magdelana. She wants hers clean and she wants them that way ten minutes ago.
Donald Jr. made the comment that "Trumps don't do diapers."
Aside from the fact that he's an idiot for at least 23 other reasons, I would like to comment that it's sad. Sad that he's missing out on a great opportunity to be a cool dude to his kid. Cool in the way that MacArthur must have felt returning to the Phillipines.
He got to do that only once. Unless Maggie is an aberration, a two-month old provides many diaper-changing opportunities over the course of a day. And night. And the sloppy grin she reciprocates for a clean diaper is completely worth it.
A lot of things in life are complicated. Changing my daughter's diaper is not. I get to be a very cool dude in her eyes for doing something amazingly simple. She may not ever consciously remember, but somewhere seeping into her memory bank has to be the recognition that her dad is the funny-haired guy making her life better. I'd be an idiot not to seize that bonding opportunity. Smelly, pungent, visually disgusting? Sure. But in a moment of brutal self-assessment let's just say I don't always have the most beautific odor either.
Listening:
Man From Snowy River Soundtrack
Cat Stevens Teaser and the Firecat
Sondre Lerche Faces Down
Luna Romantica
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