You know those parenting moments when you are struck with horror and disgust at something your child has done, while some small voice in the back of your mind is reminding you that it's ammunition for future embarrassment attacks?
I had a doozy one of those moments yesterday.
Its miles better than the naked baby bath pictures.
It even beats the farting in church story.
Bug ate his own poop and declared that it tasted good.
While it was the consistency of strained peas, I doubt it resembled anything vegetation like.
No, I don't doubt. I know.
Because I could smell his breathe while I was changing his diaper, scouring his butt, and bleaching out his mouth.
Even typing this, I can still smell it.
Copraphagia, or feces eating, is actually common in small children, according to the medical websites I devoured while trying to reason out that my son was not a freak of nature.
He is. There's just other freaks to keep him company.
I mean really, what in the hell possessed him to do that?
And even worse, to say it tasted good?
I thought I'd raised a child with a fairly educated palate. I made the majority of his baby food, for Pete's sake! His food tasted like food, not some over processed by product dyed to look like a food's distant cousin.
I mean, I'm not a great cook, but my food tastes like food.
Not feces.
And my husband was no help. When I told him about it, he started gagging.
He wasn't even there, and he was gagging.
I had to deal with it and he was gagging.
Seems fair, huh?
All I can think is that dogs do it. To them, waste matter is a delicacy, especially if coated with a kitty litter shake and bake.
So I wonder if we should have named Bug "Rover".
Bark, bark.
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