Anyway, I have several friends who are now embarking on this journey and who have asked my advice regarding the choice between cloth or disposable diapers. I told them, without hesitation, that I was somewhat offended by their insinuation, and that unless it was All-You-Can-Eat-Frijole-Night at the Enfermo Taco, I was still quite in control of my bodily functions, thank you very much.
Moments later, upon returning from the restroom, it hit me: I really needed to go back. It was during this second run — or really more of a quick step — I realized they had been referring to diapers for their own children.
Though I used cloth diapers for my children — which is why my thumbs and index fingers look like pin cushions at a second-hand store — I suggested disposable for one simple reason: Plastic disposables have a distinct advantage over cloth when it comes to playing dirty diaper football.
Whether they admit it or not, at some point all men participate in this fantasy scenario, which takes place when they are at home and alone when their baby makes a dookie. That’s when the highlight reel begins to roll and goes something like this:
It is a clutch situation in a game-winning scenario as the center (played by baby), gives the snap (in the form of a dirty diaper) to the quarterback (Dad), who then shuffles back and straight-arms a defender before launching a pass to the receiver (diaper pale) for the WINNING TOUCHDOWN!
Unless, of course, it is intercepted by, say… a wall, or it unravels before reaching its intended receiver.
Based on my experience, I highly recommend plastic disposables for several reasons. First, you can not throw a nice spiral with cloth; too floppy, and the center of gravity…
…Well, there is no center of gravity. Your diaper football will simply wobble too much in flight to achieve any kind accuracy in your air game.
Second, the safety pins are a hazard, and they also affect the aerodynamics of your passing game. Forget any “hail Mary” plays with cloth. And if you overthrow? Let’s just say it will look like you just sponge-painted your wall.
Third, you can’t (or at least shouldn’t) ever punt a cloth diaper football.
The same goes for spiking. Take it from me, an “excessive celebration” call will be the least of your worries if you lose control of the “end zone.”
In fact, the only advantage cloth diaper footballs have over disposable is that, should a buddy show up and take on the roll of a defender, once the play is in motion he is much less likely to attempt a fumble recovery.
Other than that, disposables are clearly superior and also much easier to assemble.
Step one: Acquire a dirty diaper. If you can’t get one at home, ask around.
Step two: Remove the soiled diaper, keeping what will become your centrifuge intact. This will make or break the accuracy of your passes.
Step three: Roll your diaper football, making sure to maintain its center of gravity. Remember, it’s a lot like rolling up a stuffed cabbage: It will seem like everything won’t fit, but it will.
Step four: Warm up your throwing arm.
It’s that easy!
Oh, there is one other thing; check the integrity of your football regularly — especially before throwing “the bomb.”
You get the picture.
(Ned Hickson is a syndicated columnist with News Media Corporation. His first book, Humor at the Speed of Life, will be released this December from Port Hole Publications. You can write to him at firstname.lastname@example.org, or at Siuslaw News, P.O. Box 10, Florence, Ore. 97439)