Human Trash Can P2
When Duty Calls (and Smells)
Yo, check it. There I was, surrounded by tiny humans at Happy Tots Preschool. Me, a college genius slumming it as a mentor aid. Why? Cause even smart bros need cash, and chicks dig guys who can handle kids. Plus, it's a breeze compared to quantum physics.
So there's this kid, Mitchell. Picture a pint-sized garbage disposal with legs. This little dude would eat anything – crayons, glue, you name it. Today, he's eyeing the play-doh like it's a gourmet meal.
"Yo, Mitch," I say, cool as a cucumber. "How about we build a tower instead of treating that play-doh like a snack?"
Mitchell just grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. That's when I hear it – a sound like a mini-trumpet. The kid's face scrunches up, and suddenly the air gets... spicy.
Now, I'm no rookie. I've changed diapers that could clear a frat house. But this? This was next level. Mitchell's diaper was packing heat.
Most people would run. But not this bro. I saw an opportunity for some grade-A humor. I mean, what's funnier than farts, right?
So I did what any self-respecting college guy would do. I leaned in close to Mitchell and let one rip right back. A real window-rattler. My proudest moment? Maybe not. But the look on Mitchell's face? Priceless.
The kid's eyes go wide, and then – I kid you not – he sniffs. Like he's savoring a fine wine or something. And then he laughs. Not just a giggle, but a full-on belly laugh that has the other kids staring.
"Dude," I say, trying not to crack up. "You're like a human trash can. Is there anything you won't smell?"
Mitchell just keeps laughing, probably not understanding a word I'm saying. But in that moment, I swear we had a connection. A bond forged in the fires of flatulence.
As I'm changing his diaper (cause yeah, that's still part of the job), I can't help but think: this is what college prepares you for. Not the diaper changing, but the ability to find humor in the grossest situations. To take life's little stinks and turn them into something funny.
So here's to you, Mitchell, you little stinker. May your nose always lead you to adventure, and may your laugh always be as genuine as it was today. Just maybe ease up on the play-doh, alright? This mentor bro's got your back – and your backside.