As with most babies, it takes a little time to learn their likes and dislikes, and to start guessing at what talents they may have as the grow. With Gavin, he instantly enjoyed music and was singing complex songs before he was actually speaking well. Cooper appeared to be on-course to be a brilliant comedian (besides his chicken nugget remarks when he sees birds, he’s got a few other similar blog-worthy stories). Nolan, it seems, is destined to be a world-class distance pooper. Because I’m certain that there is a country out there that holds these sorts of contests.
In my six-plus years of diapering, I have never seen projectile pooping. And I don’t mean he poops and it lands a few inches away from his nekkid behind. This kid, besides surprising even the pediatrician with his volume of poopie diapers (9 or 10 a day), and having some incredible thunder when pooping (heard it through a closed door and over the sound of my electric toothbrush), can shoot poop approximately three feet away. At least that’s his current record, set while laying on my bed. Before I could get a diaper on him (I was fighting with the near-empty tube of diaper cream), I heard a grunt, and then the pooplosion noise emanating from his itty-bitty behind. In one shot, he got the edge of the towel he was laying on, the edge of my bed, my leg and pajama bottoms, the floor, his cradle next to the bed, in-between the slats on the cradle AND over the top edge to get the bumper-pad and the bedding in the cradle.
And I guess if he doesn’t end up pooping competitively, I could always catch poop competitively, since my new poop catching skills are far superior to my puke or pee catching skills.
Kind of dark (took it with my phone), but here you can see the full distance of where Nolan set his projectile poop distance record. Don’t worry, I did this pic AFTER I cleaned everything up.
Up-close shot of the measurement of approximately 37 inches. I’m starting to wonder if I need to get a concealed carry permit for this child’s butt.
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