This week a friend who has been diapering a kid as long as I have (coming up on three and a half years now), watched me fold a stack of cloth diapers and wondered aloud:
“Why do you do it to yourself?”
I don’t ave a sensible answer
Awhile ago I wrote about how large amounts of anything make me queasy – condoms, candy, etc.
So the thought of the number of disposable diapers that would be heading to the trash from my two kids alone makes my mind boggle. BOGGLE.
(You know that passage from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy where Zaphod Beeblebrox steps into the Total Perspective Vortex designed to make people feel totally insignificant against the vastness of space? Well Zaphod steps out unfazed, but I’m pretty sure the Vortex would have killed me).
So I pin, snap, wash, fold and put away. I pour a slug of vinegar in every wash and I spend 20 minutes folding diapers only to start it all over again. But when I tally that up against packing crates of plastic diapers home from the store and carting bags of soiled diapers to the dump, the simple squares of flannel still win me over.