C.P.I.

Hey. This is Ryan. I was thinking about this post all last weekend due to the fact that Clark's poop seems to have lost the cute, new baby butter smell. Yup, this post is all about poop.

As I mopped up Clark's back and front ... again ... of his toxic yellow excrement, I noticed I do something only a parent would do. I inspect his poop. You've heard of C.S.I. - Crime Scene Investigators? Well, I'm a C.P.I. That's right, I'm a Certified Poop Investigator.

How do you become a C.P.I., you may ask? It helps if you are a parent. We parents tend to be immune to the many fluids that come out of our children. From barf to blood, we tend to ignore the ghastly and get right down to business. Like the other day, Luke got one of his monster nose bleeds. As children screamed and pointed, I calmly walked over and commanded his nose to stop bleeding. That's how it works. Parents command the respect of all bodily fluids. But my business is poop. And, thanks to Clark, corn and other assorted baby laxatives, business is good.

Here's the process: First, start breathing through your mouth. Ignore the runny nose and try to think happy-smell thoughts, like roses, Hawaii, fresh baked bread. Wait. Scratch the last one. It may deter you from ever going to a Great Harvest Bakery again. Think, instead, of fresh rain. Yeah. Fresh rain will work.

Now, open up the package. Think of it like a Christmas present. A Christmas present from the Grinch. Try to get excited to discover what's inside. Just don't shake it to get a clue of the contents. Never, ever shake a baby. They say it will cause brain damage to the kid, but I'd like to think it's because that is one soda you don't want exploding all over your face.

Next, examine contents carefully. I find myself imagining I'm on a really stinky scavenger hunt or a detective on C.S.I. I delicately sift through the diaper and try to pinpoint meals we had previously like, "Oh, there's the watermelon we had for lunch," "Heeeey, there's them peas" or "So that's what happened to that penny."

Finally, wrap the gift up again so that your garbage technician can enjoy, just as you have. In this case, it's OK to regift. After all, poop is the gift that keeps on giving ... and giving ... and giving ... and giving.

Now congratulate yourself. You've dissected another diaper and successfully completed your training as a C.P.I. If your kid is anything like my kid, you'll never run out of chances to prove yourself a worthy investigator. It's a stinky job, but someone's got to do it.