It wasn't that long ago that I can remember having clothes without stains on them. Oh, sure, occasionally I do something stupid like work on my car while wearing my work clothes and get something on them - but for the most part I work in jeans and t-shirts - a polo shirt if I have to look nice for a meeting, so getting something on my work clothes wasn't an every day event.
Recently I find that I'll go to put on a pair of pants - more khaki then jeans these days... get them on, agonize over which belt ( a huge decision, either brown or black) to go with the pants, pick out a shirt to go with the pants and belt, get everything on - to discover that the pants are stained with baby spit-up that didn't quite come out - but hey, that's ok, because it matches the stain on my shirt which also didn't quite come out and may have very well been the result of the same half digested, milk based formula, spewing without warning event.
Sure, the first couple of times when Aidan was only a few weeks old, spit-up was cute - it was kind of like interacting with mini-me on some level. I feed him some food, he smiles, burps, then spits it back out at me. If it weren't for the cute interface, the data in, data out might have been a little disgusting, but seeing that little newborn face smiling back made it all worth while. Well that was five months ago - now it's just yuckie (yes, that's a technical term, I've looked it up in "Nipple Confusion, Uncoordinated Pooping and Spittle: The life of a Newborn's Father"; Roger Friedman, I'm sure you can find it on FindAnyThingForSaleIncludingThingsYouWouldNotEverNeed dot Com.).
So here we are, Father and mini-me, each testing the other's will. Which will flinch first? Will I grab a drip cloth before Aidan spits up? Will Aidan do his best to spit up as quickly as possible so as to not allow me grab said drip cloth?
I'm going to need to go shopping for new pants.
It's a good thing he's cute and didn't come with a gift receipt or return address.
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