The point of that story is that my parents were here last week, so they had the joy of caring for G through his malaise. My mom fielded the fever day and let him wipe avocado-colored snot epaulets all over her shirts. My dad the doctor (of mathematics) wiped his avocado-colored poops and spoke, as only my dad would, in anatomical terms while diaper creaming the irritated lad: "Too much cream! I don't want to plug his anus!"
But don't you for a minute feel sorry for them. They're eager participatory grandparents, and they have a long history with avocado:
How 40 years ago looked.
You've come so far, but you can't escape the avocado.