Dude, we've got to work on this crapping your pants thing. You are 9 weeks old now and enough is enough. While I will admit that the explosion of poop and gas your butt created this morning was awe-inducing (and got a good giggle out of your dad and me. Mature.), the resulting doody-foam that coated your thighs and back was not sexy. Little man, there was even doody behind your ear. Your ear! How does that happen? Is that some kind of baby gang right of passage...instead of being jumped in, you are poopy-smeared in? Should I expect to find fingernail files hidden in your diaper? Is that stuffed dog really playing baby music or is there some cryptic baby gang message behind the blinking lights and lullabies?
I gotta tell you, it's enough with the poo poo and pee pee. You might be able to cute your daddy and I into wiping your ass (chubby thighs and gummy smiles are mean, mean weapons...how can I get mad at you for peeing all over my white blouse when you're goo-goo-ga-ga-ing with dimply cheeks?), but you will NOT get a date smelling like Desitin and poop. Trust me, the ladies ain't turned on by diarrea stains on onesies.
It's time to clean up your act, son. You're a handsome guy with a lot going for you. You've got a winning smile, cute baby-muscled arms, even a full head of hair. You're gonna make some baby girl really happy...if you can just keep the crap out of the equation.
I love you,
Mama
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