Out with It

Dads are strong. They are the rock upon which the family leans. So, what happens when that foundation is cracked? Such was the case this weekend, when Fletch got sick.

It is a delicate matter, with no delicate way to describe it. So I will just out with it, even if Fletch cannot: The Boy is constipated. Without getting into the gory specifics, he seems a bit uncomfortable. That's hard on a first-time dad. (I imagine that once you done this before, you develop a super-power to tell when the child is really sick, or just a little sick.)

Ultimately, it is the uncertainty that bites. There is little to no differentiation between a small ailment and a big one, because the kid cannot really tell you how bad, or where, it hurts. He just cries. (Except for The Vaccination Cry. You hear that one, and you KNOW he's unhappy. See my post on the 2-mo. doctor visit to appreciate its ear-piercing nature.) And you don't want to be one of THOSE parents, the ones the nurses at the doctor's office talks about. "Can you believe Mrs. Smith? Calling 14 times over the last 2 days. Get over it lady. Babies cry. Suck it up." C'mon, you just know they talk like that once you hang up the phone.

And of course, you don't want to go the other way, allowing your child to suffer needlessly.

Maybe my wife just has me worked up about this. Of course, she just called. The doc says no need to worry until The Boy goes about 5 days without poopin'. 5 days? I don't want to change that diaper!