The Phantom Nose.
Are you familiar with The Phantom Crap?
The Phantom Crap is what occurs when you're happily playing with your sweet, chubby baby, and he's crawling all over you and laughing and giving you those marvelous, open-mouth kisses all over your chin, and he's saying lovely, endearing things about baw-de-raw-baw and then you catch a whiff of something horrid.
And then you heft said baby under the arms and deposit him about 4 feet away from you to make sure that he's not leaking toxic fluid all over you.
And then you realize why he's so blasted happy. Why he looks like this:
Judging by the smell, he's just had the biggest, gooeyest crap of his life.
As he squats on the ground, fanny waving in the air, you approach carefully and sniff.
Oh, sweet lord, it's horrible.
You go downstairs for some fresh, extra wet baby wipes, because the ones in his room are a little dried out, and you don't want to end up using blankets and dirty socks to stem the tides of the ooze in his britches.
You lay out an old, mangy blanket, get 8 wipes separated and ready, take a deep breath, and whip off his pants.
No ooze. Thank goodness.
Then you gingerly undo the diaper tabs to find....
Not even a little, teeny, tiny, baby skid mark.
The horrible, nasty, hideous stench of doom was apparently just a silent but deadly baby fart.
And the cruel irony is that when he does hunker down for that monumental, unavoidable, disgustingly green splat, you won't know it, and then you'll pick him up and snuggle him and ruin your shirt and stain both hands and probably be out of wipes and end up using your nicest kitchen towel and smell like a dysenteric cow for the rest of the day.
My kid had the biggest Phantom Crap ever today. It totally stunk. And the diaper was as white as driven snow.
Anybody else know what I'm talkin' about, yo?