The Sea Was Angry That Day My Friends

When people hear that you are about to have a baby they love to roll out the same old lines, and coming second only to something about not getting any sleep, is a forecast of the literal shitstorm to come.

This is an area in which I thought I might struggle. I had close to no baby experience coming into this, whereas my wife had spent considerable time looking after her nieces, plus she is also a Prep teacher, where dealing with the odd surprise turd is part of the job description.

In order to shield myself from the fumes, I practiced wrapping my face in old t-shirts, which would have me entering my first forays into the world of nappy changing looking like a Taliban fighter.

A former Taliban fighter looks on after

But to my surprise, it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. All of this talk of blowouts and poo explosions seemed like mere exaggerations. For a few days, I was taking out shitty nappies like it aint no thang, but complacency is a deadly foe if there ever was one.

Take a seat, those with an ear for a tale. This, is my story.

The waters had remained calm for days. Confidence was high, and I saw no reason to dampen it, despite forward scouts sending warnings about a storm on the horizon. Indeed, we were to forge ahead, steadfast and cocksure, as no gale or gust would ever be the folly of a man with an iron will. 

However, the calmness that instilled that same certainty would begin to bring about its undoing, as this kind of calm is often a prelude to what the experienced campaigners call ‘The Brown Squall’. A storm so violent that tales of its wrath had been exchanged for generations over many a firelit barrel of rum, ensuring its legacy remained true to the day.

I had not had the chance to witness it, but many my senior officer had warned that my time was approaching, yet I had not heeded their calls, as many other young captains I’m sure before me.

And just as everything was seeming to be in my favour, I heard a rumbling. Twas as if Poseidon himself was emerging from a long slumber. And he was not at all in good spirits. For the sea was angry that day my friends. I felt the vibrations rattle through the very marrow of my bones, and before I had the good fortune to prepare, I had already been consumed.

For this was not just a brown squall, fellow traveller. This was a POONAMI. It had not just desecrated the diaper, but soaked into the pantaloons, and right up the back as well. My own hands and arms had been tainted by the blight, and in my state of stupor, I was not even sure that I would retain both my limbs such was the damage endured. It was a scene that can barely be described, so I put it to you that you must one day see it for yourself. For it does not seek to destroy you, good fellow. You will come out the other side, albeit a changed man, but every survivor will have the chance to tell their tale.



2 thoughts on “The Sea Was Angry That Day My Friends

  1. My husband once left the room to change my son’s diaper and was gone for a solid fifteen minutes. When I walked upstairs, he said, “DON’T come in here. It looks like a crime scene.” A few sons later, he’s finally learned to spare the curtains, walls, and his forehead by having the next diaper RIGHTTHEREWAITING.

    Just found your blog and read your four most recent posts. Absofreakinlutelyhilarious. Love your wit, snark, and creativity. Looking forward to your next post.

    Cheers to little monsters. I have three.


    1. Haha, luckily I haven’t experienced any of Frankie’s attempts at interior decorating, yet.

      Thanks for the kind words. The blog started about 7 months into my wife’s pregnancy, so you might find some funny pre-birth insights further back as well.


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