24 July 2008

Glurk

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
b)

Actually, I guess a) is all I'm after.
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5 comments:

Karin said...

You are helping me process the months ahead. The last two posts are ones I can definitely relate to. Preparing to hunker and be happy.......

July 24, 2008 at 5:04 PM
Dawn said...

You're a war hero! Purple hearts . . . new shoes . . . sentimentally similar, in a vague sort of way. ;)

July 24, 2008 at 10:10 PM
Glenda said...

So my number four was a big glurker. Always had every chair covered that I sat in to help make clean-up a bit easier. But the funniest thing ever was her baptism day. We asked my husband's youngest brother and his fiance (they would be married 2 months later) to be her sponsors. The soon-to-be-Mrs. held our darling daughter as she was given Christ's name and a new life. She continued to hold her as the service progressed. All was well until we stood for the Gospel reading. Our newly born-again daughter glurked all over the soon-to-be-Mrs. down and in her stylish tank dress thoroughly soaking everything. The soon-to-be-Mrs. face was one of horror and what did I do? I simply led them out the side door and back home (boy is living in a parsonage a wonderful thing!) in order to clean up, change clothes and make it back for the ending of the sermon and partake of Christ's body and blood.

Now that same soon-to-be-Mrs. (who has been a Mrs. for almost 7 years) is expecting #3 and no longer wears such cute, stylish clothes as she also has learned that children simply glurk and no longer thinks she did anything to make our child glurk. It simply happens.

And I must say at the time, I was actually quite relieved that she was the one that it happened to and not me, because I think my hormones would have kept me from returning to service, as I would have simply went home and cried and cried and cried.

July 25, 2008 at 10:10 AM
Thursday's Child said...

The Boss used to be a major glurker, until he was about a year old. I have to say, a helpful dog is a wonderful thing. ;)

July 25, 2008 at 2:25 PM
Reb. Mary said...

Our Baby3 is Glurker3. And they've all had their own glurk flair. BoyOne was the most dramatic; he really launched it: I mean, I'd be frantically mopping the church pew in front of us and/or warning people not to sit back down. Boy3 cured one of the church's notorious baby-snatchers: After 2 glurk incidents at VBS in a row, she steered clear of him.

I occasionally put on semi-clean, or at least dry, clothes, in the odd event that I actually go someplace public. But there's really no point. Even on Sundays, I wait till the last minute to change into my church clothes, aim the Glurker away from me, and cover myself in burp cloths, but by the time I arrive at church 60 seconds later I've already been glurked.

And TC: I still think it's gross, but our carpet is (counterintuitively)a lot cleaner than it would be if we didn't have a dog...even if i think i've gotten the glurk cleaned up, she always goes back over the spot just to be sure :O

July 26, 2008 at 9:17 PM

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