Ugh, time to change my silly stinky wiggly. I assume the task will take just a few minutes…
I’m a tiny bit annoyed at his timing, but mostly glad that he did the duty while we were still at home and not in public. Because I don’t “do’ public changing tables, I’m thankful to tackle the poop at home and not while running errands.
I rip open the soiled diaper, and thank my lucky stars everything was actually contained, and not splattered clear up his back like I had initially suspected. (Whatever, you know it’s happened to you before too.)
I call out to my daughter: “One diaper, two wipes”. It’s our standard routine. We start with one diaper and two wipes, cross our fingers we don’t need any more. Most times, two wipes is one too many. But on rare occasions, when poop hits the fan, I need to call in backup. I think my all-time wipe count record during one changing session is eight sheets. Not my finest parenting moment by any means, it was a crappy day to say the least.
But this particular changing session would prove I still have a lot to learn, before becoming a Master Stinky Wiggly changer.
In a first year rookie move, I take my eyes off him for a millisecond. Wouldn’t you know it, in a total boy baby move, his hand hit his dirty crotch. Baby fingers meet poop, and baby mama proceeds to dry heave. Oh boy, we’re now dealing with poopy baby fingers that he’s desperately trying to bring them to him mouth!
Impromptu tub time, here we come!
What started as a speedy diaper change before we leave the house, ended up taking the better half of an hour. My nerves were rattled, and my cardigan splattered.
But at the end of the ordeal, Paul is clean and happy, and just have a few more grey hairs.
More Babbling from Emily…