The other night my wife took a picture of my son’s buns to send to her sisters. Don’t ask me, I try to stay under the radar and not ask too many questions, I guess this is what sisters do.
Anyway, here’s the picture.
After her sisters forwarded this around the family emergency phone tree, the calls starting coming in. It wasn’t ‘how adorable’ or ‘what a cutie he is’, but rather ‘what is wrong with his butt crack?’ and ‘why is it so freakin’ long?’
Of course we wouldn’t just assume it was the lighting or the way she was holding him. I jumped to conclusions and right away thought my kid was born with an adult butt and I had never noticed. I hopped on Google, furiously searching for other parents advice (horror stories) about ‘long butt cracks on babies’ which, after a few minutes, ended in frustration.
During the madness of texts, phone calls and photo retakes for everyone, I overcooked dinner and had to order out.
We’ll just bill that $40 in Chinese food to Charlie’s savings account, since it was his long dirt road that caused this whole mess.
Just a peek into how I spent an hour of my time last Tuesday night.