Wyatt's Law

While at brunch with Mommy, Daddy and their friends, I began to cry. But it wasn't just a normal cry. This cry was award winning. Ear piercing. Avalanche causing. And I didn't stop.

Mommy fed me boob, but that wasn't it. Daddy burped me, but that didn't work. I just woke up, so I wasn't sleepy. So Mommy held my butt up to her nose, and hell yes.

Still, they were perplexed. I had pooped and cried before, but not as loud as this. So Mommy and Daddy left and began walking me up the big hill to the car. But still, with each step, I cried louder and louder. Uncontrollably. So impossibly loud that Daddy had to run up to the car and drive down to me and Mommy. He opened the trunk, laid down a pad, put a clean diaper underneath me and opened up what I was wearing to take a look.

If you're eating, I ask you to please put your food down and take a seat. If you're one with a weak stomach, I ask of you to move on to the next post. If your poop smells like roses and dandelions, then you have a serious problem and should seek medical attention.

Not only did I poop my pants - and this was a royal world-class poop, by the way - but I was able, through my superhuman powers, to also poop all the way up my back, even managing to squirt a couple of kernels behind my ear.

Yes sir. My poop defied gravity.

So, for every science book that preaches Newtown's Law of "what goes up must come down", let me introduce you to Wyatt's Law: "What comes out can also go up".

Also, an addendum to that law: When I get to be over 12 pounds, upgrade my diapers.