Poop is a really big deal in our house. The girls are fascinated when I change one of London’s stinky diapers. In fact, the minute I get up to go to the changing table you can feel the excitement in the air. Mom, does she have poop? How do you know she has poop? Did you smell her? Did you look in her diaper? Are you going to change her poop? Can I watch? Everyone come quick! Mom is going to change London’s poopy diaper!
I’ve observed that the fascination with poop doesn’t go away when we grow up, it just changes a little. Instead of a poopy diaper it’s a sordid affair, it’s a pregnant teenager, it’s a messy divorce. Everyone wants to talk about it and see it and let everyone else know what’s going on but no one wants to touch it with a ten foot pole.
Only a mother and father can care more about you than the big, fat, stinky mess you just made. Only a mother and father can look right past that poop and say “This is my child. I love you. Let me clean you up and hold you close.”
Thank you Lord for the mothers and fathers who will come over, pick us up, carry us to the changing table and clean you up our mess. Lord send more mothers and fathers.