When I was a little boy, before the mutation, my parents pulled me and my brother aside, and told us that they had a present for us. My brother and I looked at each other in blissful expectation, mouths agape, eyes wide. What could it be? My parents paused melodramatically.
“You are going to have another baby brother!” my mom told us excitedly. Again, my brother and I looked at each other, but this time disappointed.
“I thought you were going to say Coleco Vision,” I replied depressed. My little brother nodded in agreement.
After the initial shock, though, my brother and I were genuinely excited about our new addition to the family, and don’t fret, we did get a Coleco Vision soon after.
I was nine years old when my youngest brother was born. He was beautiful, with platinum blond hair and Caribbean blue eyes. I couldn’t believe how little his hands and feet were. I was so happy to have him, our little gift from God.
My parents had a bassinet in the living room where the new baby spent a significant amount of his day. I would crawl under the bassinet, because it had the new baby smell, and I loved it.
The first day my new brother was home, I was under the bassinet breathing the wonderful new baby aroma, when suddenly, it didn’t smell so good anymore. “What is going on here?” I wondered aloud.
“Mom,” I called through our house, “I think the baby took his first pooh.”
My mom came in, and picked the precious bundle of joy up.
“He sure did!” she exclaimed happily.
How could anyone be happy about that? I guess it’s one of those things only a mother can love.
She put my little bro back in the bassinet, and unbuttoned his little jumper. Being curious I peered over the edge. She unfastened his diaper, and lifted up his bottom. In the diaper I saw one of the strangest and most disgusting things I had ever seen, even to this day, 16 years later.
What did I see, you may ask? It was a soft, warm pile of Gulden’s Spicy Brown Mustard, or at least that is what it looked like to me. It was kind of yellowish, and had the consistency of that mustard.
Immediately sensing something was wrong, I asked my mom if my brother had been eating hot dogs. She explained that baby’s digestive systems aren’t like ours, so weird thing come out until they settle into their bodies. I was not happy with this explanation, but being nine, I nodded and walked off to play with some G.I. Joes.
It took me about 10 years before I could eat Gulden’s mustard without being thoroughly grossed out, but to this day, I still think of my baby brother’s first pooh when I eat a hot dog.