The Most Powerful Words in the English Language

Me as a baby. A good baby. One that never would have done something like what follows...

I remember once watching this old movie or reading this old book that said they did a study to discover the most beautiful word or combination of words. I’m not even sure how one would discover such a thing. My guess the people who did it were of the artistic persuasion, not exactly scientists with any sort of evidence to back up their finding.

So!  What did they come up with? What did they find to be the most beautiful phrase in the English language? This:

Cellar door

I know, I know. Doesn’t seem like much. But think about it. Let it roll off your tongue. It’s wonderful really. It evokes a sense of mystery, possibility, perhaps even dread. There’s something beneath it, literally and figuratively.

Still with me?

Well I’m here to say “they” were wrong. There are two words that evoke even more mystery and definitely even more dread. Ready? Ok, this:

Blow out

Maybe I’ve written about blowouts before, maybe I haven’t. A blow out is a bowel movement of sorts that actually blows out the sides of the diaper, or the top, surely the bottom, and everything in between. It covers and consumes. It reduces sturdy, air tight, water proof diapers to pathetic and useless globs of their former selves. The child’s outfit is certainly ruined.

If you know what I’m saying, then you know. If you don’t, you don’t. But I can show you if you come over and the stars align just right. Life will change for you, an indelible line drawn.

There are different kinds of blow outs. I will not categorize them all. Suffice it to say yesterday Connor had a blow out of the “sweet potato variety.” It was this unearthly orange, rust, primordial goop that came from some other planet. I actually failed in my attempt to change that one. Becca swooped in, a mother’s work never done, and helped me out. And I’m actually REALLY REALLY good with changing diapers—I normally don’t even bat an eye.

That all being said, I can’t believe I’ve said this much thus far, Connor will be exclusively breast feeding until age 3. Or 4. Or whenever potty training is accomplished. We will put that little monster on the cover of Time to shame. You know the one. He will look like a baby compared to Connor by the time he’s allowed anything other than old fashioned, all natural breast milk.

Believe that.