Well...the joke was on him. You see, my parents didn't believe in diapers and raised me "au natural". I was one of those "Free Range Babies" that you hear so much about.
For the first year of my life I pranced around my nursery, baring myself to the world with only life-giving oxygen caressing my "po-po" instead of the smothering thick cotton of a diaper.
My nursery floor and baseboards protected from my staining them with "Jeffy Extract" by blue-nylon-kiddie-pool liner...which of course was dragged outside and unceremoniously hosed down in the back yard on a nightly basis.
Well into my 20's, whenever I would share a meal with my parents, my father couldn't resist regaling us with tales of the bumper crop of tomatoes he raised the next summer...
Jeff with hair. The mind boggles!
ReplyDeleteIndeed, I once had hair. Lots and lots and lots. And lots.
ReplyDeleteLots of orange poorly coifed hair. The kind the ladies never wanted to run their fingers through.
Ah, my salad days!