Stinky Fingers...

Okay, it is inevitable, I guess, to talk about something that may not be for the faint of heart, or squeamish of stomach. When doing a running weekly blog about the challenges of raising a toddler at fifty-four years old, it is topic that must be broached at some point. And while that reality is upon me, and I am more than willing to venture down that road, you can probably tell that it is not a path that I am eager to trek. So without furhter avoidance, how can I put this, dealing with soiled diapers has got to be my least favorite part of Fatherhood at Fifty. It gets easier as Shiloh gets older from the visual standpoint. I don't have to scrunch the face and hold my breath. It gets more difficult because now she wants to explore what is going on down there right in the middle of getting her "Diap-ee" changed. And by the way, it is like riding a bike, once you've changed the sheer volume of diapers I have changed over too many years to mention. You fall right back into the grove. Fortunately, I am not old enough to have had to deal with one safety pin in the mouth, while attaching the other to the cloth. Or am I? I seriously don't remember, which can't be a good sign. Complicating matters is her tendency to make a mad dash away from me when I approach her with diaper and wipes in hand. I also had to learn that downward stroke thing that is required with little girls. But all in all, it has not been as bad as I had envisioned. Of course, the stinky fingers part is still a little too much to take, and I'm not talking about Shiloh's either. Hey, I have big hands and long fingers and sometimes it's hard to get them out of the way...