Rushing like a footballer, I tucked him under my arm and rushed to the changing table and, breathing only through my mouth lest I pass out from the foulness and squish my newbie, I pulled down his diaper. Elmo seemed to be warning me from the waistband, but I pressed on.
It was empty.
"Well, Harry!" I said and stepped off to the side to grab the nail clippers as his tiny toe just cut a gash in my arm.
I turned back around to see - a fountain. My baby was grinning and peeing a stream that was reaching a good two feet in the air and drowning the yellow duckies on his footy pajamas.
"You did that on purpose," I said to him as I stripped him down to his (new) diaper.
He's been like that all day.
Earlier he grabbed my thumb between his two pink gums and chomped and then licked it. When I asked for it back - he grinned - not releasing my digit but instead having a grand ol' time increasing pressure slowly - just to see what I would do.
I may have watched too much "Family Guy" while I was pregnant...
I'm scared of my baby. :)