I hear that parents who wish to eschew the environmental pile-up (P-U) of diapers embrace elimination communication, or EC.
Elimination communication, which The Laughorist hereby paraphrases as "phew you," relies on parental discernment of various cues and signals of the infant or child to discover that an elimination of bodily waste is imminent, threatening, or -- oops! too late!
I guess it works. I can understand the theory. Maggie, our dog, walks and sniffs in identifiable patterns before peeing or pooping. not that my observation changes location, frequency, or tidiness. (That's two sentences now where I have applied use of my friendly little serial comma.)
Part of me applauds this elimination communication thing. (Environmental stewardship, etc.)
Part of me scoffs at the whiff of Operation ElimComm. (Elitist, naive sentimentality toward all things "natural.")
Then again, to each his own. To each her own.
Sui generis.
Speaking of phrases, in Latin or other lingua franca, elimination communication as a term offers rich possibilities:
"All due respect, get used to these concrete underwater hiking boots, pal." (The Sopranos version)
"This casket will cost you $12,999." (Unctuous funeral director version)
"Children, seven minus seven equals zero." (Elementary-school teacher version)
"And with that loss our playoff hopes were dashed like so many broken bulbs on a Times Square marquee." (Sportscaster cliche version)
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