I am a pretty big fan of trivia.  Back in the day (before we were parents) my husband and I used to love the NTN games at various watering holes around town.  I must say we were pretty good at it, though that was ten years ago.  He knew the history, geography, and sports.  I could handle the random television questions and literature (before reality tv became so popular, and I refuse to watch Survivor).

These days I get my trivia fix two ways: Family Feud on Facebook and changing the baby’s diapers.  While Family Feud might have extremely dated answers that make you shake your head (who screams over Ricky Martin now?), JD’s diapers are a never ending source of mystery and puzzle solving.  What did that boy eat when I wasn’t looking?

As I may have mentioned, I primarily use cloth diapers unless I am out and about.  Shaking the baby’s deposits into the toilet allows me ample time to see things that don’t belong, things I have may have missed while merely wiping his tush.  Even with disposables, I don’t just throw it away because we all know that human waste in the trash is bad, right?  RIGHT?

Today my eldest came trotting downstairs with an urgent message: the baby had pooped and was now attempting to remove his diaper.  There is a definite disadvantage to the velcro enclosures on my all in one diapers (they need no covers or pins and work like disposables): a smart and determined baby can take it off if they wish.

Sure enough, JD had been a VERY productive citizen, and had one velcro tab unfastened.

I hauled him downstairs to change him and was quite amazed that such a little person could make such a big stench.

As I wiped that adorable yet stinky  little tush, I found that JD had really eaten all of that pickle his brother shared with him yesterday.  Pickle skins and no molars?  It comes out just like it went in.

It also turns out the baby is part beaver, because I am quite positive I found a bit of bark from the stick he was hauling around so proudly yesterday.

Other amusing findings (if you roll like I do): a blade of grass.  Bright blue and orange bits that had to have been from the crayons I pried from his moist little fist.  Watermelon seeds.  Popcorn kernels (that was Tater, and I swear to God I thought the boy had eaten ladybugs).  Cucumber seeds.  Learning that Cheerios end up looking like your baby ate dirt.  A small plastic bit of unknown origin.  A waxed candy wrapper that was still legible enough to know what kind of candy he ate, wrapper and all.  Naturally, corn remains a source of amusement.

I look for the light at the end of tunnel.  Someday, this baby will be potty trained.  Mere years from now, I will no longer be part of the potty process, unless you count hollering “flush that down, for the love of God!” and wishing I had not seen those skid marks that makes you think an 18 wheeler must have screeched to a stop inside those Backyardigans underpants as I throw them into the washer.

And that, my friends, is going to be a beautiful day.