TJ has super sensitive skin. He’s suffering through severe diaper rash and none of my previous treatments had worked.
I prepared an oatmeal bath, then a revitalizing scalp treatment followed by a hydrating salt glow and seaweed body masque. Still! None of this worked. His skin is too good for anything that worked on his brother. His skin is scoffing at all my feeble attempts.
His butt shops at Whole Foods and snickers when the sweatpants donning mom in front if him requests a paper bag because she can’t afford a reusable bag since all her money went to seventeen dollar gluten-free carob cookies.
My baby’s butt never picks up the sushi that gets a dollar marked off the price because it’s after 5PM. His butt tweets about chanterelle mushrooms being only $25 a pound. His butt complains that the spinning instructor’s music has too much Bon Jovi in it and is still upset that no one has taken action on his complaint that his favorite bike’s right pedal is still rickety.
His butt hates it when someone microwaves fish in the office break room or cooks up a bag of popcorn but doesn’t share. My son’s butt will order the Real Simple magazine subscription from your kid’s fundraiser but says it’s a gift for his mom, even though he really wants to know five other uses for vinegar and baking powder. His butt likes to praise himself for knowing the answer on Jeopardy before the contestant did. His butt sees the heavy rash creams his mother slathers on his skin and yells, “Is this organic! Were the workers at the company unionized?!”
My baby’s sensitive butt only appreciates fart jokes and never fails to share one.