Baby Dude can glurk. Man can that guy glurk! I shudder to think how much he'd weigh if it weren't for the glurking, considering his percentile of choice. He's sneaky about it too and avoids the burpie by turning his head, or glurking at times far removed from feedings. He seems to find the *splat* sound of glurk hitting the kitchen floor especially satisfying.
So I've had glurk on the brain (and the shirt and the pants and the carpet and the linoleum and the couch and the chair and the sheets) for six months now. My observations have indicated that other people find glurking very offensive, such that they
a) holler, jump up, throw the baby at me, and run for a complete change of clothes immediately upon his glurking on them or merely while being held by them OR
b) refuse flat out to hold the baby out of fear of being glurked upon
Meanwhile, I wear the same glurk-infused pants day after day so as not to drive up laundry costs or wear out my clothes with excessive agitation. Because really, why wear something clean? It will just get glurked on as soon as I pick him up. In fact, my current pants and shirt are both heavily glurked, and I see a spot of it on the carpet that I missed.
Anyway, despite the research cited above which shows glurk to be a terrifying, infectious, and possibly corrosive substance no one ever
a) buys me a present to thank me for the gift I make to society by courageously volunteering to be glurked upon all the time
Actually, I guess a) is all I'm after.