Tote Bags

This has been a big week for the Grantster. On Thursday, Grant officially became a permanent member of the Hawkins family (his protruding nose and chin are on order). The ceremony involved standing before a judge and declaring that we understood that we were to support and love Grant for as long as we're still alive. It also involved us agreeing that Grant could inherit from us (good luck with that one, kid) and that if Erin and I were to ever dissolve our marriage, one of us would have to take custody of Grant (this would obviously be Erin, since if our marriage were ever to dissolve, my body would be disposed of in a most unsatisfactory manner.) All in all, the hearing went well, and Grant managed to impress the judge by sleeping through the entire proceeding.

This morning, Erin went to a lady's meeting for church. This meant Grant and daddy got some one on one time to play cards and watch that show about the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders (just kidding, ma...). Grant has had a difficult 24 hours. For whatever reason, he's been exceptionally gassy, and despite my efforts to try and show him how to relieve the issue, the problem remains. Therefore about 10 minutes after mom left, Grant began to alternate between screaming and giggling, as gas bubbles approached. It was maddening. He'd coo and giggle, so I'd get right in his face to giggle with him, at which point he'd switch to a blood curdling scream, rendering my hearing non-existant for several minutes after.

One thing I discovered after Erin left is that there were small, plastic shopping bags all around our house. One in the kitchen. One in the family room. One next to Grant's changing table. This final one gave me an unfortunate clue as to the contents. Now I understand that Erin is tired, and OCD has decided that I'm usually the one to take out the trash, but I'm not sure I fully understand the need to leave a small, plastic bag filled with urine soaked Huggies at every corner of our humble abode. When she gets home, I plan to ask her if she's trying to ward off evil spirits or perhaps ensure we don't have house guests for the next few months through the use of these little Grant fun bags. Needless to say, I gathered them all up, disposed of them in the trash in our garage, washed my hands up to my elbows 25 times, and returned to attending to my gassy little guy. Ah...Saturday's...