Whenever Loverpants changes the baby's diaper, I sometimes get a little bit irked because the church ladies all swarm like pigeons WHAT A GOOD DADDY! and Loverpants has to demo his special methodology of cloth diapering and it all becomes a big show, and it's not that I really want to get in there and fight for my rightful Golden Clothespin trophy, but come on. Why can a mother change enough diapers to absorb the arctic glacier and no one flinches, whereas Daddy Diaper Bag saddles in and does a quick changeroo in the back pew at church and everyone is slapping their cheeks Kevin McAllister-like and punching him in the biceps WHO'S YOUR DADDY! But then I know the man behind the diaper, behind the closed doors, and I can tell you, he is deserving of every ounce of praise. My husband really is a great father, a tremendous parent, and I am always learning from him. The other night he came home at 10:30p from Job #2 to work an overnight at Job #3 and made it home just in time to shower before Job #1 at 7a.m. the next day. I had only slept 3 hours myself due to a pesky assignment I was struggling with the night before, so I had fed the babe and tried to buy some more zzzz's by putting her back down again. But the first thing Loverpants did when he came home was to go for that little sucktopus, pick her up and see if there was any a.m. tomfoolery to be had. I am constantly reminded of how lucky Baby Girl is to have such a caring, devoted father. We all are.