POO-NAMI WARNING

It's just about time to pack up and leave Arizona. We've had a good time here visiting grandparents and just spending time together. Here are two images of me having fun with Nate and Will. It's an out-of-focus offering someone has taken to calling "Julie's Boys." (my dad took the picture with his camera, so I don't know how to get the time/date stamp off the photo)

Here we see Nate with his face all slashed up. He's getting all Sid Vicious by slicing himself up with his finger nails. We keep trimming them, but he still manages to sharpen them into dangerous weapons within seconds. Perhaps he's concealing an emery board somewhere in those folds of fat.

Meanwhile, Will is reacting to the news that he had won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.

Moments later, things changed...I came into sharper focus, Nate became concerned about his self-destructive lifestyle, and Will got hypnotized by the magical 3rd eye that emerged from the side of my head. Good times.

But now it's time to leave and, despite out better judgment, we may actually board a plane back to Oregon tomorrow. This is a source of much concern. There's all the hassles of flying with children that we've already discussed here. But now there's a bigger concern on the horizon, the poo-nami.

Nate and Will have not pooped in about 3 days. That's not unusual for babies fed strictly on breast milk. But it also means that there is an epic poo waiting in there, and it may happen on the plane.

A tsunami can destroy thousands of lives in a few short seconds, a poo-nami could have similar effects. The excrement these two babies create is some of the foulest matter known to man. The last time I tried to change one of their poopy diapers, I had violent dry heaves that almost made the task impossible.

The flight home is almost 3 hours long, and it's on a tiny regional jet. If you've tried to use the bathroom on a regional jet, you know you need the skills of a Chinese acrobat just to get inside that cramped little room. As for changing a diaper in there, it's impossible. Trust me, I've tried.

That leaves two very unpleasant alternatives. The first is to change the diaper in the cabin. If I did that, I'm pretty sure I could be charged with war crimes under international law. That is, of course, if I made off the plane alive. Airplane justice can be a swift, violent thing. But allowing a smell that rank drift across a small airplane cabin would, indeed, be cruel and unusual.

The second alternative involves simply waiting to change the diaper until we land. That's not such a great idea, either. After a while, the baby will get uncomfortable and start to cry. And that foul stench will slowly begin to waft out of the diaper... slowly gassing my fellow passengers to death.

If the travel gods smile on us, none of this will happen. So we're keeping our fingers crossed. But take a close look around you next time you go through airport security. Yes, they just took away your bottle of water in the name of safety. (Anyone who passed a 7th grade science class can use a Dasani bottle to down a commercial airliner, right?) But they will let us pass through security with the most deadly weapon of all: a pair of poo-filled infants.

May God have mercy on us all.