Same to You

Abbie is currently obsessed with Butt Paste. I capitalized the product because that’s its trademarked name. It comes from Louisiana, where folks are apparently a little off-kilter.

Abbie must have Butt Paste on every diaper change. When she went through that little bout of diarrhea a few days ago, this made sense as her nether regions were bright red as daddy didn’t realize it was possible to poop three times in an hour.

Now that her gut is functioning mostly normally and her skin is back to the normal pasty-white indicative of our clan, Butt Paste is unnecessary. That doesn’t stop her from demanding it every time she gets a fresh diaper. She’ll ask for it by name, and throw a fit if I try to pants her without a little zinc oxide spread across her diaper line.

When Abbie says its name, it comes out as “Butt Ace,” which creates a couple problems. First, if she’s understood correctly, Butt Paste is a crude thing for a dainty little girl to ask for. She should be asking for toddler appropriate things like flowers, puppies, or Goldfish, not a trademarked name that could double as a playground taunt.

Second, if she’s misunderstood, and considering how poorly she enunciates this is too likely, it sounds like she’s saying “butt face.” I know she’s saying Butt Paste, although she could theoretically be calling me a nasty name for repeatedly trying to diaper her unprotected bottom. That may be another of nature’s signs that it’s time to potty train my 3-year-old. That way I wouldn’t have to spend time changing a child’s poopy diapers three times an hour.