This morning, despite the fact that I had no desire to wake up, I had to take the girls to the sitter. My lovely wife needed to go to work early to make up some hours, so it fell upon me to deliver the children to their daily internment camp filled with toys, macaroni and pretzel rods.

Why didn’t I want to wake up? Because sleeping felt so damn good. I often wonder if sleeping is what we’re supposed to be doing because, well, it feels a lot better than being awake. It doesn’t hurt, it’s restful and no one tells me I’m doing it wrong. In fact, I’m quite good at sleeping. I’d say that I have a natural talent.

Once I got going I realized that only the right side of my body was awake. I had no depth perception, as, for some reason, my left eye was not functioning properly. It took a long time for the systems to come on line. Since only my right brain was functioning, I had this random intuitiveness that I don’t normally have. There’s a general battle between the two sides of my brain. Logic versus holistic thought.

I had composed an epic poem about this when, out of the blue, my left-brain became active and blew it away with a mathematical equation that I didn’t understand.

After feeding and watering the kids, my lovely wife had to go. She handed the baby to me and said, “She needs to be changed.”

I joked that she was fine the way she was. We all laughed and decided that I should tour with a comedy troupe because of my intense original comedy.

So, the wife departed and I took the baby upstairs to change her diaper. That’s when I realized a crime had taken place. I had been set up. I was a patsy.

There was something in that diaper that defies explanation. It was horrible. It may have been sentient. It was proof that nature is laughing at us.

Now, normally, it wouldn’t be a problem to change a diaper. But this . . . this . . . stuff wanted to move on its own and escape. It was the blob, wanting to replicate and grow, devouring all human life in its path.

Worse, still, is the baby is now in her total Fidget (her nickname) mode. She wasn’t content to let daddy free her from the expulsions of her own body. No, she wanted to roll in it. It was like trying to horizontally thread a wet spaghetti noodle into an oscillating fan.

Distraction worked as I repressed my gag reflex. I contained the biological contamination zone, sealed of the girls’ room until the men with the hazmat suits could come and make it fit again for human dwelling. I put the nearly naked baby in a cute little sundress and placed her in her car seat for the drive to the sitter.

Halfway there, I realized that Matilda had wanted to spend the morning with her mother at work. Why? Because she enjoys watching the corporate system beats down mom.

I glanced in the backseat and saw that she was covered in a silver, reflective fabric. It’s her invisibility cloak (from Harry Potter). I knew that I wasn’t allowed to talk to her because she was invisible. One must respect the controlled dementia of childhood. The baby was snoozing in her seat, so I just listened to the plaintive wails of the new Flaming Lips CD.

I dropped off Matilda at her mother’s work. She denied all knowledge of the heinous science experiment contained within her youngest daughter’s diaper.

But I know the truth is out there. And revenge will be had. Oh yes. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But when she least expects it. And I know the baby is on my side because I give her tummy zerberts and she giggles.