Does anyone remember the joy of folding diapers? I’m serious? Warm and clean from the dryer, all that was expected of you was to lift a handful, set this down and one at a time make the neat, even folds until the diapers are all piled up, then place the neat pile in a drawer. So easy yet productive a task. Has anything since compared with the combined relaxation and usefulness of the enterprise?
Oh, never mind the preliminaries; the poop is a mere splash in the pan, a toss in the washer then off to of the dryer and your receptive hands. The warm comfort of the process as you fold the clean cloth melds with the singular thought since giving birth that never totally left you for a moment: the chubby, gurgling recipient who wears this wardrobe, limbs dancing in air as you pin around the dancing limbs with safety pins.
Those were halcyon days indeed! How we ever gave the soft fluffy things over to plastic, I will never know.