From the people who brought you candy cigarettes

It's with some trepidation that I enter the "who are the ad wizards that came up with this one?" territory.

But this product (made by a company called Munchkin, no less, and which we have in our house), bears comment.

Of all the things you quickly learn to become un-squeamish about as a parent, poop ranks pretty high on the list. Sure, you deal --- especially in the early months --- with spit up and lots and lots of snot, but poop remains the constant. Day in and day out, as the seasons cycle by and the milestones become fond (if fuzzy) memories.

All this poop, of course, needs a repository. In the early months of Samson's life we relied on that staple of baby shower registries: the Diaper Genie. But several months back, we got tired of having a giant cylinder of baby poo standing sentry in the corner of his room.

So we decided to simply haul the dirty diapers away on an a-la-carte basis. Which, unless it's raining or snowing heavily, is really no trouble at all. The big thing to remember, however, is to keep a good supply of plastic, disposal bags handy.

But not too handy.

Hence the dispenser Vicki picked up at Target. Which is terrific, except for the fact that it's shaped like something Samson uses every time he takes a bath.

Also, it looks like the subject of a song by one of his favorite Sesame Street characters. Why not scent it like chocolate chip cookies, for crying out loud? It's hard enough to keep Samson away from things that don't look like toys and can hurt him.

I imagine right now that the good people at Munchkin are hard at work on a line of Teletubby-shaped used needle holders and Elmo-themed bleach dispensers.

I mean, who are the ad wiz... Woops, sorry.

Did I mention it looks like a toy he plays with in the bath?

So now, hidden in a basket he won't be able to reach until he's in high school, there is a duck full of plastic bags.

And every time I reach for one, he sees it [who can miss the bright yellow duck with a blue bag dangling from his underside?] and clamors "Play! Bath! Play!"

Good grief.