Father Doesn't Know Best

Since having a baby in my life I've discovered that my wife and I have a much higher tolerance for what I find disgusting now.Things that would have instantly triggered my gag reflex before parenthood barely register on my personal gross-o-meter now.

The other night, my daughter woke up screaming her head off. My wife was the first responder that night and as she was fumbling around in the dark, searching for a fallen binky, she ran her hands through something thick and wet. After turning on the lights in the room she discovered that she had just ran her fingers through baby vomit.

Without wavering, or even washing her hands, she plucked out daughter out of bed and began to change her. Kindly enough, she also turned on all of the lights in the house as a subtle gesture for me to "get the hell out of bed."

As I came into the room and was informed of the situation I immediately started taking the vomit-coated sheets off her bed, although getting some on my hands I also pressed forward without stopping for a towel. The entire time I was changing the sheets I couldn't help but think "Why isn't this gross to me?"

That wasn't the only time that I've had that thought. Those words have also crossed my mind while pulling a huge booger out of my daughters nose and wiping it on my own pants, in the heat of the moment. And, of course, there are the countless experiences with full diapers and blowouts. (See "The Blowout")

One of my favorite moments (although, not my own) of enduring our daughter's grossness happened the other day when my wife was about to give her a bath. In the two feet from removing my daughter's diaper, to placing her naked butt in the bathtub, she managed to pee all over my wife's leg. Being quite the trooper my wife actually made it about halfway into the bath before calling me for backup so she could change.

What is it about your own child's bodily fluids that make them seem less gross, and even comical, than most would find them to be? All of the above examples would have sent me gagging from the room pre-fatherhood, but now I just find myself laughing about them.

I'm beginning to be convinced that it's some sort of psychological defense mechanism to keep parents from running screaming from their kids, and continuing to find them to be cute, despite their foibles.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad it exists. My daughter is adorable and I'd hate to think otherwise just because of some body fluids.