"Who can take this diaper?" "I don't mind at all."
While the twins were staring at light bulbs, Abbie found her new favorite toy: the Diaper Champ. Sometimes I wonder why we bother spending any money on new toys when a couple trashcans and a strand of chasing Christmas lights should be enough to entertain them until preschool, and then it’ll be their responsibility to entertain them.
For the uninitiated, a Diaper Champ is a diaper disposal system meant to hold dirty diapers and control their odor until the time you open the container to change the enclosed trash bag and all of those stored odors infiltrate the room with the fury of 1000 hunks of forgotten gorgonzola. Slide a diaper into the top hole, rotate the handle 180-degrees, and a weight pushes the diaper into the trash bag with a thunk. It’s an amazing engineering feat that’s at least on par with anti-lock breaks.
I’m sure Abbie discovered the Diaper Champ while I disposed of a boy’s diaper; she saw her hero daddy use it, heard that enticing “thunk” after rotating the handle, and decided she wanted a piece of the glamorous world of diaper disposal systems. Now she loves to twist the handle back and forth and hear the thunk repeatedly. As a bonus, it’s top heavy, which makes it fun to tip and watch it wobble back to balance; it’s like a Weeble, except bigger, stinkier, and it will fall down.
While I need the Diaper Champ on the floor where I can easily dispose of toxic substances, I don’t like her playing with it. For starters, she can catch her fingers in the diaper hole as the mechanism rotates into stench purgatory, pinching them in the process. Abbie is at the stage where any pain causes her to collapse into a howling ball of agony, shrieking to deaden the pain until she’s absolutely, positively, completely certain that the hurt has totally vanished. It’s not fun to listen to her cry, but the bigger danger is when she sneaks into the room while the twins are sleeping, pinches her fingers, and screams oblivious to the fury she’s about to awaken.
Just as troubling is the danger that she’ll throw away something valuable while playing. I can’t see the pail’s contents without opening it, which is great when it’s filled with toxicity, but not so great when there’s a burp cloth I want back sitting on top of the pile. She hasn’t figured out to throw burp clothes into the pail,* but she has discovered one of her treasured stuffed animals almost fits. More than once I’ve found Abbie giggling and rotating the handle while her lambie is stuffed into the diaper hole with only the head sticking out guillotine-style.
Fortunately her lambie won’t quite fall into the pail, but today I discovered one of her sippy cups will. I’m glad I know exactly how many sippy cups are out of the cupboard at any one time. On a whim, I checked the pail for the missing sippy cup, and there it was sitting on top. I quickly fished it out and slammed the pail back shut. Luckily the trash bag was fairly new the stench wasn’t too overpowering, more like the rank of 500 stale slices of Gouda.
* Yet.
For the uninitiated, a Diaper Champ is a diaper disposal system meant to hold dirty diapers and control their odor until the time you open the container to change the enclosed trash bag and all of those stored odors infiltrate the room with the fury of 1000 hunks of forgotten gorgonzola. Slide a diaper into the top hole, rotate the handle 180-degrees, and a weight pushes the diaper into the trash bag with a thunk. It’s an amazing engineering feat that’s at least on par with anti-lock breaks.
I’m sure Abbie discovered the Diaper Champ while I disposed of a boy’s diaper; she saw her hero daddy use it, heard that enticing “thunk” after rotating the handle, and decided she wanted a piece of the glamorous world of diaper disposal systems. Now she loves to twist the handle back and forth and hear the thunk repeatedly. As a bonus, it’s top heavy, which makes it fun to tip and watch it wobble back to balance; it’s like a Weeble, except bigger, stinkier, and it will fall down.
While I need the Diaper Champ on the floor where I can easily dispose of toxic substances, I don’t like her playing with it. For starters, she can catch her fingers in the diaper hole as the mechanism rotates into stench purgatory, pinching them in the process. Abbie is at the stage where any pain causes her to collapse into a howling ball of agony, shrieking to deaden the pain until she’s absolutely, positively, completely certain that the hurt has totally vanished. It’s not fun to listen to her cry, but the bigger danger is when she sneaks into the room while the twins are sleeping, pinches her fingers, and screams oblivious to the fury she’s about to awaken.
Just as troubling is the danger that she’ll throw away something valuable while playing. I can’t see the pail’s contents without opening it, which is great when it’s filled with toxicity, but not so great when there’s a burp cloth I want back sitting on top of the pile. She hasn’t figured out to throw burp clothes into the pail,* but she has discovered one of her treasured stuffed animals almost fits. More than once I’ve found Abbie giggling and rotating the handle while her lambie is stuffed into the diaper hole with only the head sticking out guillotine-style.
Fortunately her lambie won’t quite fall into the pail, but today I discovered one of her sippy cups will. I’m glad I know exactly how many sippy cups are out of the cupboard at any one time. On a whim, I checked the pail for the missing sippy cup, and there it was sitting on top. I quickly fished it out and slammed the pail back shut. Luckily the trash bag was fairly new the stench wasn’t too overpowering, more like the rank of 500 stale slices of Gouda.
* Yet.
posted by Matt at
10:14 PM
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