Nappy Days

Pah. It may be WPBT time in Vegas, but this weekend was also time for the annual Jolly Boys Outing.

This has been an annual fixture in the Div calendar pretty much since I could legally drink alcohol. That's 18 years old, just for you unfortunate Americans.

The Jolly Boys Outing generally involves a bunch of us setting a day aside to get absolutely hammered, usually tied to some other activities such as a pool tournament or casino visit. Wives and partners are not invited.

This year we decided to kick off the day with the Celtic v Hibs game, which proved to be a wise decision.

Many years ago, I can recall the visits of Alex Ferguson's Aberdeen, and Jim McLean's Dundee United, as being significant events on the football calendar. The sort of game where a 1-0 win was a great result worthy of celebration afterwards.

For a very long time, save for the Rangers fixtures, there's been no comparable event to look forward to. Until now.

While Hearts gave Celtic a tough time in the recent 1-1 draw, their style of play is geared towards being organised and difficult to beat. Hibs, on the other hand, play fast, attacking football.

The stage was set then, for an entertaining 90 minutes. With such anticipation, it's not unusual for the game to be an anti-climax.

For once, the teams didn't let us down. 90 minutes of exhilarating action, great goals, fierce tackling, open play, and a real sense of drama about the whole occasion. Culminating in a 3-2 win for Celtic.

All of which left us buzzing at the final whistle, and with a healthy thirst worked up. The perfect way to kick things off.

I can't comment too much on the rest of the day, other than to say many pubs were visited, and a taxi home from the casino ended the night. My memory of the whole thing is pretty fuzzy, and two days later I'm still recovering.

Which perhaps suggests it's a blessing that I couldn't afford the time or money to make it to Vegas. Though I know at least one UK blogger did. Maybe next year.

Even though I made it to the casino, I didn't have the inclination to gamble. I'm having one of those months where everything I touch turns bad, so the prospect of a drunken blackjack session held little appeal.

I offer as an example losing with double suited Aces to a maniac who calls a raise and 24BB reraise pre-flop with K744, catches a solitary king on the most uncoordinated flop imaginable, and calls off the rest of his stack only to river another king for trips. This after I have already sat through FIVE orbits of the table without winning a hand. Waaahh.

Even worse, I'm pretty sure from his username that he was a fellow Scot. Must have been a Rangers fan!

While my poker game may be making little progress recently, it's fair to say Baby Div is going great guns. We started her on solids fairly recently, and she has taken to them with gusto.

While it's great to see her doing so well, and enjoying her new foods, one unfortunate side effect is a dramatic deterioration in her nappy output. Boy do they stink!

Which is bad enough under normal circumstances, but given my extended hangover I have really been suffering over the last 48 hours.

Such is the content of her nappies, I wouldn't be surprised to receive a furtive approach from some emissary of the Iranian Government, seeking new and deadlier warheads for their missiles.

Since we are feeding her on steamed carrots they have also adopted a most unusual hue.

The staining power of pure carrots is something I'd never appreciated before. After a few fountains of orangey, milky puke, Mrs Div and I have learned to maintain our guard at all times, and liberally swathe the baby and furniture in muslin cloths and towels to prevent staining during feeding time.

All of which works fine, but is no defence against the byproduct of the carrot consumption. Whilst dealing with one such output today, I thought my streaming eyes were deceiving me.

Despite my most vigorous efforts with a fistfull of baby wipes, I could not shift the final residue. That's when it dawned on me it was not in fact residual baby poo, but an altogether more stubborn problem.

The carrot infused poo had tanned the baby's bottom in a colour reminiscent of Christina Aguilera in one of her more outrageous moments. A problem not even the strongest baby wipe can deal with.

I did light heartedly suggest we tried a couple of Oxy-wipes as an alternative solution, but Mrs Div vetoed that one.

Bath time tonight seems to have resolved the situation, fortunately.