Let me just state for the record, the husband is top quality. He is very hands on, not afraid to get dirty (do diapers) and loves to spend time with his girls.
However. This morning the six year old and I did our usual mad dash for the bus (roll on summer break.) I walk back into the house and nearly fall over from the fumes.
"Holy cow, what is that smell?"
"What smell?" says the husband.
Picture the scenario - baby is playing on the carpet and the husband is sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee. It's a perfect domestic scene. Except for the incredibly foul odor. I immediately check the trash, fridge and sink - nope. Maybe it's outside?
Thinking about it, I could smell it before I came through the door. As I'm walking to the door to check it out, the baby looks sweetly at me and says "Nak!"(snack.) So, I pick her up to put her in the highchair. We don't make it to the highchair. I have sourced the odor.
"Honey you have to be kidding me, it's her diaper, you couldn't smell that?!"
"I have a cold" he pleads.
The infamous Man Cold. Ladies, you all know what I mean. Famous enough to rate it's own comedy sketch http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mz6DktXFvg4
I will spare you the details but there was poop over 90% of her body, and 60% of mine before we were done. But hey, daddy has a man cold.
I, on the other hand, am quite thankful for his apparent dysfunctional olifactory system. Either that or he's too polite to complain when I let one rip at the office ;-)
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