“Every once in a while, when I’m changing a poop-filled diaper, I feel the slightest gag reflex.”
–Yours Truly

I blame rice cereal.

…and as I underwent this very special feeling today, it occurred to me that this is the first-ever situation I’ve experienced where I don’t necessarily mind the possibility of impending nauseous retching, aside, of course, from the occasional amusement park thrill ride.

It is also in this moment that I felt I graduated from New Father Academy, and may even be able to pass “Go,” and collect $200.

So today, this Fathers’ Day 2011 (my first as patriarch), please join me in celebrating myself, and I guess, if there’s time, all of the other fathers out there, who, too, have quietly and determinedly pushed through rear-end sanitation and other such thankless tasks; who animatedly read bedtime stories in voices that, in public, would warrant the permanent revocation of their Man Cards; who construct playthings while suppressing the exasperation engendered by the Worst Assembly Directions Ever Written; who throw out their backs while playing a little harder than necessary at the park for just one more giggle from their little people.

This is their day, and they’ve earned it.

Whose stocking will Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo fill?

While on the topic of fecal matters, please allow me to apologize, O Loyal Reader, for the lapse in posts on this fine publication as of late.  After consulting its physician, Twinfamy is now on fiber supplements, which means you can expect more regularity again starting this week, starting with a brand new Twincident tomorrow, which, faithful to today’s brown-hued theme, will feature the unification of Number Two and a Pseudonymous family member’s face.  Yes, you heard me right: Poop + Face = Ensuing Hilarity.

Try to contain yourself ’til then.

Happy Fathers’ Day!