G has started saying “yucky” when she deuces.   now typically this sort of thing is cute her speaking in her cute little baby voice, but this phrase always makes me sad.   poor baby sitting in her own shit desperately asking for help.   So, I try to jump right on that when I hear her say it.   However, i also try to avoid being in earshot – this strategy usually does not work.   Fact of the matter is I can usually smell her brownouts before she announces them to me.   Last weekend in Chicago, in a drunken haze after the marathon while getting loaded at the Embassy Suites complimentary happy hour, the smell just attacked me and I knew that she had done yuckied and it was my responsibility as first one who smelt it to dealt with it — probably fair, as I was the drunkest so the pain was not so bad.   This morning in the car over to daycare she says “yucky” when i unstrap her, which was weird cause she had a major pants crisis less than an hour before.   Sure enough, a freshy was ensconsed in her drawers, so I had to apologize to the good people at Kiddie Kare for dropping my kid off with a loaded diaper.   They took it in stride, and for my part, one yucky a day is plenty to handle.