Diaper Di Diaper

One day while E.C. was planning a small baby caper

She felt something odd in her diaper di diaper.

She squirmed and she wriggled to again feel better

She rolled over, she sat up, but she only felt wetter.

She crawled to the kitchen and paused to (blank)

It felt like thin paper in her diaper di diaper!

Checking the dining room (blank)

She sat in the hallway (blank)

to the hallway (blank)

mommy appeared to fix it.


This is one of the old posts that I abandoned, but it’s so fun to find! I wrote it in July 2015. We had just moved out to Washington and were living in a corporate apartment in Auburn, south of Seattle. That was such a hard time. Wee One (E.C. in the poem) was four months old, and Cohiba was working, which meant I was in the apartment alone with her a lot. There wasn’t anywhere we could walk to, I didn’t know anyone, and I was desperate not to fall into depression. So I tried to call a friend every day, get out every day, write a bit every day.

Cohiba had just gotten WO a Dr. Seuss book an had been reading it to her when she started screaming ’cause she peed in her diaper. She could not stand being wet back then, so I picked her up and said, “We need to go change your diaper di diaper.” Which seemed like a really Dr. Seuss thing to say. Cohiba chortled and I started to write this story/poem, but then stopped.

But I still call it a diaper di diaper.


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