Tiffany was out on a Saturday morning shopping, or something. I was in charge of caring for the boy. Duties as assigned included a bath this particular morning. Upon waking up, we took care of the bathing, lotion and dressing business. He was smelling good. I was feeling good about myself.
|Yeah, I know, the pouch contains organic fruits. Not a big fan because organic baby food is not fortified with vitamins and nutrients. However, with pouches just taking off, the selection is a bit scant.|
He was hungry, so we went to the kitchen to rustle up some grub. He’s very impatient in the morning, so I started off with one of those Gerber pouches. It’s basically pureed baby food in a juice pouch configuration (an absolutely ingenious invention).
At this stage in his life, Linus’ fine motor skills are developing. Note, I said “developing” not “developed.” Being an idiot, I took the cap off the pouch and handed it to him. He instantly gave it a big squeeze ... while it was still a good four inches from his face.
Boom! His shirt was covered in a pureed paste that closely resembles Robocop’s lunch. Instant dad fail.
But, wait. What’s this? The pouch contains apples, blueberries and spinach, which is apparently purple in color. And, his shirt is maroon! Woohoo! A quick wipe of a paper towel and the evidence was gone.
That, my friends, is what it’s like to hit the dad jackpot.