I can no longer buy Pampers at my grocery store. In the war of superlatives, Pampers Plus is as basic as it gets. My wife likes Huggies, but a husband could die in the nappy aisle trying to figure out which kind. When Pampers Premiums came out, it seemed the battle was lost. But, at the 11th hour, the Huggies people countered with the Supreme (which apparently wowed them at the Detroit Diaper Show). You have to assume that they'll eventually run out of synonyms for 'better than' - unless Uber-Huggies are in the works. What's the difference? Well, some of the fancier models have little indicator strips that change colour when the child does a No1. Others have extra absorbent gels, moisture pulling cores, stretch panels, resealable tabs and protective lotions. Some even claim they can 'breathe'. For a 'T-shirt over the nose' guy like me this seems like a crime against humanity. If you can somehow manage to find the right features, size and make (is he a Cruiser or an Explorer?), there's another hurdle: the 'occasion' nappy. Overnight. Swimming. Toilet training. Hanukkah. You name it, they make it. Remember the old TV commercial with the 'scientist' from the secret university lab pouring blue water into the crotch of the leading brand? Well, technology has significantly improved since then. I took my son for a swim when he was six months old and was horrified at what happened to the nappy he was wearing. In less than 10 minutes it had swelled to elephantine proportions and the water level in the shallow end had dropped. The really troubling part was that it was bone dry to the touch. I guess my question is: What kind of derelict parent needs a nappy that holds litres of fluid? Shouldn't they try to get you to change them more often, not once a month? And what exactly do they put in there to suck up that much water? And, more importantly, why don't they make paper towels out of this stuff? Considering that two billion trees are harvested every year to make the 10,000 nappies an average pre-potty trained child will use and the 75 years they take to decompose (the nappies, not the kids), we shouldn't even entertain the notion of using anything but cloth. But I have a short, compelling list of why I don't: baby poop makes me gag. So why would I want to gag twice (during changing, and again during washing)? Secondly, safety pins are only safe for the person wearing them. And what if I cut myself with a pin and poop gets in it? Some would say my interest in nappies is more than a little unhealthy. I content myself with the knowledge that the dreaded spectre of incontinence will one day darken my doorway. Hey, don't bury your head in the sand - it's coming for you, too. And when it does, I'll be ready with the Depends Geezer-Primo-Thin (spiderman on the waist). And you won't catch me anywhere near the deep end.