last weekend Alicia and I went to the baptism of oour friends' new baby girl Ella. She is a doll. just a little bitty thing and sweet as can be. I even forgive her for pooping all over my arm. (it's really Alicia's fault anyway) I said "oh...she's going. she really needs a change." Alicia says "oh don't worry about it. It's mostly just air." I'm just some dumb guy who doesn't know anything so go on holding Ella, despite the new warm feeling I have on my arm. Finally, I say "Ella really needs to be changed" and WOW! so much poop from such a little baby. What's a little sick and twisted is that I was just happy to be right. In fact, I was more happy to have the poop on my shirt and be right, than if Alicia would have listened to me. I'm pretty sure my happiness came from being right and not some wierd fecal love.
Years ago (days) when I first wanted to write about this I was all jazzed about talking about the Orthodox church that Ella was baptized in and how the ceremony was really cool and how the mom and god-parents confirmed their oath to God by spitting in the doorway of the church. But as usual with me, everything turns to poop.
keep being sweet Ella and I can't wait to embarass you when you are a teenager about the time you pooped on me.