Butt Massage

"You want me to do WHAT?"
"Massage her anus."
"Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?"
"No, that is what the doctor said to do and it works."

It appears that the baby has inherited my wife's uptight-ness.  Little Katie has trouble pooping.  From what I can tell, talking in man-terms, her release valve and pressure system are not working in tandem.

Picture this...

You have a moonshine still.  You heat the squeezin's up and it vaporizes the alcohol.  The alcohol vapor moves through the copper tubing and gradually builds up pressure.  Luke is supposed to go to the thump barrel and turn the tap while he catches the shine in a mason jar.  But what if old Luke has to go into town for supplies, or has been sippin' on the last batch and doesn't turn the valve?  The pressure from the increasing amount of alcohol in the pipe continues to grow in pressure.  Soon, very soon the top of the mountain blows off the map.

Ok, maybe that is a bad explanation.

Either way, as you build up a supply of poopies and continue to put pressure on your valve, you'll soon need to relieve the pressure or burst the baby.  So the doctor has us remove her diaper and rub her little tushie with a warm rag to help her relax.

So I take off Katie's diaper and she immediately begins to grunt.  And grunt.  And GRUNT!  The pressure continues to build.  And build.  And BUILD!  I rub and rub and rub.

BANG!  SPEW!

A snot green line of crap shoots out of baby Katie, across the changing table, over the carpet and directly into the doorway about three feet away.  And it spews.  And spews.  And SPEWS!

Baby Katie smiles.  She has relief.

Daddy grabs the carpet cleaner.  Its going to be a long night.