May 16, 2005
"Our baby stinks," I said this morning, carrying Roosevelt in from another changing.
Janice leaned in and sniffed. "Oh no, we have the smelly kid," she said, laughing, "we have Pigpen."
He really did smell, Mr. Bush, an ancient, weird, fishy scent that emanated from his umbilical cord stump, a stump that had been slowly getting grosser every day.
By afternoon, the scent was unmistakable. "Why does he smell so weird?" our friend Searah, who had stopped by for a brief visit, remarked.
With each diaper change the smell seemed to get stronger, and his cord more distended and strange. Until finally, this evening, it fell off. And with that, our little newborn turned into something not quite as newly born, someone older and sturdier and more autonomous.
Also, he smelled better almost immediately.