I chuckled yesterday. It’s really not that rare of an occurrence – but this time it was different.
We’ve had a long standing family joke that says it’s not a dinner if we don’t talk about poop at least once. Sometimes our family dinner chats have even gone that direction when we’ve had guests over for dinner. It’s one way people know we have accepted them into our clan, and I think it’s an occupational hazard of being a nutritionist/herbalist/iridologist.
So why did I chuckle last night? We were eating dinner. One of our ‘Daughters From Another Mother’ was over with our Adorable Grandbaby (no bias, no pride here!) Grandbaby made a funny face that DFAM recognized. She asked the daughter who was holding AG to check the diaper. Sure enough, it was full. And then the discussion followed of how AG’s BMs had changed since the introduction of solids – what the characteristics are of an avocado diaper versus a sweet potato diaper, how some BMs shoot all the way up the back – all while we were merrily eating our dinner.
DFAM has been a part of our family for about three years now. We love her dearly and are so happy our son chose her to join us. We had, however, been sorely negligent in not initiating her properly sooner. When I realized what was happening at dinner last night I did start laughing, and apologized, not for the topic of discussion, but for not welcoming her properly with a ‘toilet talk’ at dinner sooner.