D Day
In the past 6+ months that I've been Stay-at-Home-Dad-Guy, I've changed something like 652,143,256 dirty diapers. Not the most pleasant of tasks in parenting, but its never really bothered me either.
But this morning. Ugh, this morning. I forgot to take the garbage out last night, so I was bumbling around the house trying to gather all the trash for pickup today.
At some point while I was doing that, Chase took a dump. A big dump. There was more shit than child, and it leaked out of every crevice of the diaper. Top, sides, bottom, forward, backward, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's even some baby poo on the ceiling fan.
Then he crawled around the living room and kitchen, leaving a very distinct poop-path behind him. When I finally discovered this Lewis and Clark size expedition of crap travel, I meerly muttered to my first born son "Ohhh, buddy." See how good I am at not cussing around my boy? Because my brain was screaming words that would make Lenny Bruce seem like a fuzzy little kitten.
There was so much toddler dung on the boy himself, I honestly considered picking him up by his left ear, since that was the only body part that wasn't suddenly an unpleasing shade of greenish-orangeish-brown. But being the tough guy that I am, I grabbed the boy and hefted him into his bedroom, cradleing him against my arms and chest in just such a way that now my shirt is a much different color than it was when I put it on.
Now, since the boy was at his prime of awakeness, laying him on the bed and trying to change the diaper of doom was, to him, much like being beaten by a rabid pack of giant sea otters.
This meant a lot of wriggling and fussing and doing his best to spread more poo all over what was at some point a fairly clean bed. Mission accomplished!
After using about 500 baby-wipes, I got the boy as clean as can be without soaking him in bleach. Then I had to change his clothes. I suck at changing his clothes.
He was less than happy with me once that process was done.
Luckily after all this Blues Clues came on TV, and that basically mesmerizes him for a good 20 minutes, which allowed me to clean up his trail of dung destruction.
And its only 9:30 a.m.
But this morning. Ugh, this morning. I forgot to take the garbage out last night, so I was bumbling around the house trying to gather all the trash for pickup today.
At some point while I was doing that, Chase took a dump. A big dump. There was more shit than child, and it leaked out of every crevice of the diaper. Top, sides, bottom, forward, backward, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's even some baby poo on the ceiling fan.
Then he crawled around the living room and kitchen, leaving a very distinct poop-path behind him. When I finally discovered this Lewis and Clark size expedition of crap travel, I meerly muttered to my first born son "Ohhh, buddy." See how good I am at not cussing around my boy? Because my brain was screaming words that would make Lenny Bruce seem like a fuzzy little kitten.
There was so much toddler dung on the boy himself, I honestly considered picking him up by his left ear, since that was the only body part that wasn't suddenly an unpleasing shade of greenish-orangeish-brown. But being the tough guy that I am, I grabbed the boy and hefted him into his bedroom, cradleing him against my arms and chest in just such a way that now my shirt is a much different color than it was when I put it on.
Now, since the boy was at his prime of awakeness, laying him on the bed and trying to change the diaper of doom was, to him, much like being beaten by a rabid pack of giant sea otters.
This meant a lot of wriggling and fussing and doing his best to spread more poo all over what was at some point a fairly clean bed. Mission accomplished!
After using about 500 baby-wipes, I got the boy as clean as can be without soaking him in bleach. Then I had to change his clothes. I suck at changing his clothes.
He was less than happy with me once that process was done.
Luckily after all this Blues Clues came on TV, and that basically mesmerizes him for a good 20 minutes, which allowed me to clean up his trail of dung destruction.
And its only 9:30 a.m.
posted by Curt at
7:41 AM
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