Dana has been potty training lately and she’s getting quite good at it. She’ll be playing with her toys, minding her own business, when all of a sudden she will leap to her feet and sneak/bolt towards the bathroom. After successfully depositing solid matter she will emit a triumphant cry: “I went poop!”
It’s quite charming, really.
Yesterday one of our friends, Jen, volunteered to take Dana in for the day while Paula was on bedrest. Things were going just fine until Dana pooped in her pants without showing the slightest interest in Jen’s bathroom.
Dana needed some cleaning to prevent a rash, and when Jen brought Dana to the bathroom Dana stared at the toilet and then said slowly to Jen, “Oh, you have one of those.” 
Assumptions. As my friend Fraser used to tell me in high school, the word assume makes an ass out of you and me.
For the record, I am assuming the etymology of that comment traces back to donkeys and not to sphincters, otherwise it might be construed as a vulgarity. My thoughts on cursing, vulgarities, and expletives are a little complicated, but the bottom line is that I try to avoid offending people with the words I choose without becoming bound up in silly rules (such as erasing the word ass from the dictionary because one of its uses is a synonym for posterior). Plus the ensuing pun (resulting from the juxtaposition of poop and hiney) would be too awful even for me.
Back to assumptions: Dana assumes Jen has no potty and so she excretes wherever she happens to be. I assume God has no opinion about my decisions and so I don’t pray to receive guidance.
Bad assumptions lead to stinky situations.
Yesterday Paula began to feel contractions, and her doctor decided to put under observation in the hospital.
She gave Paula some medicine to stop her contractions, and so far it seems to be working. She estimates there’s still a 60% chance that our baby will go full term.
In any event, it looks as though Paula will be on bed rest right up until Baby Davis appears sometime in the next few weeks. Or days. 
We’re already at the point where Paula can deliver with very little danger to the baby, so this is more about optimizing conditions rather than trying to preserve the life of our child.
Bottom line: Paula is fine, baby is fine, Dana is confused, Daddy is frazzled.
While eating breakfast this morning, Dana said, “Your bottom is saggy, Daddy.”
Bewildered, I think I said something on the order of, “Huh?”
At which point Dana began chanting, “You can’t handle the truth!”
Over and over.
I didn’t think I’d have to put up with this sort of mockery until her adolescence. I certainly didn’t expect it from a two year old.
I need to tell my ego to buckle its seatbelt - it’s going to be a rocky ride from here on out.
Recently we were all sitting down to dinner when Dana farted.
Mom: “Dana, what do you say?”
Dana: “Excuse you, Daddy.”
People were, in my estimation, entirely too tickled by that remark.
Me: “Dana, what’s your favorite thing to put in oatmeal?”
Dana: “Raisins.”
Me: “What’s your second-favorite thing?”
Dana: “Spoons.”
I’m a little under the weather today (I have this really painful cough that kept me up most of the night) and Dana noticed that I was rubbing my eyes at lunch. The following dialog ensued:
Dana: “Watchoo doing?”
Daddy: “Daddy’s sick and tired, and he’s trying to feel better.”
Dana: “You wanna feel much better?”
Daddy: “Yes, Daddy would really like to feel much better.”
Dana: “You want some diaper cream?”
Bless her heart.
In response to those who have asked, today is indeed my birthday. My 32nd birthday, to be precise. Thank you for all the warm wishes.
If you happen to be a Stanford student, I would appreciate it if you would translate your warm wishes into a visit to our Chi Alpha meeting tonight.
If you’re not a Stanford student, a visit to a nearby church this Sunday would warm my heart as well.
So I was pooping the other day and Dana came and started talking to me through the bathroom door. She asked to come in and I explained that Daddy needed his privacy. So she sat down outside the bathroom door and tried to peek through the gap beneath it.
When I flushed the toilet Dana began cheering and clapping.
“Daddy went in the big girl potty! Good job, Daddy”
Oddly enough, it made me feel proud of myself.
The response to my April Wisdom post was every bit as wonderful as I had hoped.
Only one person commented on the blog, but we got several more “live” communications. My personal favorite: a voicemail message that said, among other things, “I thought we had a deal.”
glen with stubble - actual
Anyway, the anwers are:
Glen bald - TRUE
Paula pregant - TRUE
House purchased - HAH
- Glen has shaved his head.
- Paula is pregnant.
- We bought a house.
Two of the above statements are true. One is not. Discuss.