Here’s the thing: while my son’s 3am feed is being delivered by pump, I’m at a bit of a loss. Sleeping on the couch is an option, but it’s a bit depressing, as any alarms of the pump will rouse me, and anyway it’s just a scrunched-up thirty minutes, at best. I could read a book, but I’m sure I will have forgotten what I read by tomorrow, and have to read it over. So I thought I’d just write about whatever weirdness is in my head. Let’s see what happens.
Who invented the Diaper Genie? Ours is on loan from some generous friend who I can’t even remember, and man, does it work. So there’s this continuous sleeve of plastic bag that you just knot off, and a lid that seals the thing off. So you just keep jamming those things in there, until the stench is unbearable, and then– here’s the cool part– you just *twist* the bag/sleeve dealio, and — viola’– you buy yourself some more time. And so on, and so on.
I’ll just bet the person was a parent who was inspired by the colon. Because when you finally take out that bag (through the *bottom* of the can– it’s amazing!) the whole assembly is kind of bulging and narrow and bulging and narrow, just like a lower intestine. Each section is a pocket of it’s own stench. But it’s all sealed up, just like a colon (usually).
Anyway, it looks funny when you carry it out to the trash. Once, I had to run to catch the truck on a Thursday morning, and I threw the whole thing in there.
Wow, that’s not very environmetally friendly, is it?
If you wanted to smuggle diamonds or something, you could put them in a diaper in the middle of one of those long bags. No one would ever look there.
How does smell work, anyway? I keep wondering about that. If you sniff a rose, does some of that rose go into your nose? That doesn’t seem possible. But how else would it work? Does air smell, and we just don’t notice it?