Changing diapers, habits

A small human is standing at the side of my bed calling me names.

“Daddy. Daddy ... Daddy!”

My eyelids, still heavy with sleep, struggle to open.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I pooped,” he says.

The odor that assaults my nose confirms his confession.

“Change my butt,” the tiny being demands.

Checking my phone I see that it’s 3 a.m. I let out a sigh as I sit up and get out of bed.

My son, Jareth, will be turning 4 years old this weekend. I am amazed that I, a person who can barely keep a houseplant alive, have successfully kept a small human alive for 48 months. Or 208 weeks. Or 1,460 days. Or 35,040...