Fatherhood

It’s true:  Her poop stinks worse with every day.  Some days, I swear she’s expelled a tiny bit of the Bog of Eternal Stench out of her butt.  Naturally, I prefer when she gives those particular little presents to grandma.

I’m wearing a Mountain shirt with a howling wolf and scenic backdrop.  You can’t see the wolf because the smell knocked him out cold.  Trust me, it’s better that way.  Stacy’s wearing her blue button-up and is about to do a disappearing act.  Yeah, I’m sure she just remembered that she needed to go clean her pump, leaving me to choke on toxic fumes of baby poop.  What a coincidence.