This baby has been pooping all morning. I'm serious! It's like a game. Like Double Dare, where one contestant has to fill a cup up with kool-aid using a water gun while perched on top of a ladder while his opponents throw cream pies at him. Except in this scenario, the cup is a diaper, the kool-aid is poop, and the cream pies are also poop. This is probably the cause of his major grumpy pants today, as well as my own larger pair of grumpy pants that I started wearing in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep even though el bebe was zonked out.
So to cheer us both up, I decided to go for a walk. Ham LOVES walks, more so if being held, but also in the stroller. And I'm beginning to think I'm more irritable when I don't leave the house all day. So a walk was the perfect remedy. Yes, Nashvillians, it is a rainy day. But it was not raining when we embarked on our sojourn. In my haze of sleeplessness and diaper fatigue, I ignored the obvious implication that, really, IT COULD RAIN AT ANY MOMENT. I think you see where this is headed. I could have just walked up and down our street, staying close to the house, but due to aforementioned haze, I went on our regular route down a side street. I was...oh...half a mile or something from our house. (I have no concept of distance. Does half a mile sound really far? Or too short? It was somewhere in between. Let's say I was about 7 walking minutes from the house.) And it starts to sprinkle. Luckily, the stroller has a cover, but since we're walking into the wind, that really only protects Abe's face. The rain gets harder and is getting all over my baby! I start running a little, but, friends, we all know, that lasted only ten seconds or so before my body slowed down in protest. So we did a little jerky walk-jog back to the house. Luckily, it rained hard, but did not pour, and had almost stopped by the time we got back home, so we are wet, but not drenched. Interestingly enough, Abe does not seem to care a bit.
He also does not freak out when he takes a shower for the first time, as I kind of expected him to. No, water does not make him cry. The tears came during the drying portion of the story. THEN he decides to Freak Out. He just doesn't understand that his neck will stink if I don't dry under all the fatty folds. Wow, that sounds really gross now that I'm writing it, but he is still adorable and clean, I promise. It's juicy baby fat, that's all!