Biscusting!

Seven-year-old Jimmy watched as his mother change his baby brother’s unusually messy diaper.

“That’s biscusting! How can you do that?”

“What makes you think your diapers weren’t as biscusting as your brothers?”

“No way! No one can have poopy diapers as bad as Alex does.”

“Well, biscusting or not, someone has to change his diaper. Do you want to do it?”

“No way, gross, I’m never going to change anyone’s diaper—ever!”

Fast forward twenty years and Jimmy’s mom stops by the visit him and her new grandson. Little Peter wakes up crying. His way of announcing to the world that he’s hungry and needs a diaper change. Jimmy scoops up his son and sets him on the changing table.

“That’s one biscusting smell! I remember you telling me you would change no one’s diaper—ever!”

“Yes, I remember that conversation, Mom. I still think it’s a biscusting job, but hey, he’s my son. It seems the job goes with the title, Dad.”

“This job, and so many more, but you will find out soon enough.”

She watched her son and grandson as a tear welled up in one eye.

“Love you, Jimmy!”

“Love you too, Mom.”