Piggysnoot

Today I thought I was going to pee my pants for the second time in the last month. For the record, the first time this month I peed my pants was the day after Nora was born. Those catheters can sure mess up your ability to judge how soon you need to head to the bathroom, let me tell ya. Back to today. Today I was laughing so hard that I was pretty sure I’d need a clean pair of pants. The trip really started out innocent enough…but it quickly headed South…and then even more South…

Mom, Larry, Nora, and I went to Walmart. Larry went in to get the few things we needed. Nora, in her daily attempt at forcing me to nurse her in public, was hungry. I nursed her in the car. Up until now, you notice, things are fine. Larry finished up shopping and Nora finished up eating shortly after he returned to the car. Handing her to him to be burped I noticed that her diaper was hanging off of her butt…like two inches of baby bootie crack was hanging out…so Larry checked to see if she was wet and decided we’d just change her instead of readjusting the current diaper. Still no problem.

Mom handed me the diaper accoutrements…including the plastic covered changing pad…which we put under Nora…who was now laying on my lap so Larry could change her. He easily removed her dirty diaper. The problems began when we didn’t get the new diaper on soon enough. I think things went awry because Larry said, “Just don’t poop on me, little girl“. In baby-translation this must mean, “Poop away you nasty poop machine“…because that’s precisely what Nora did. We’re talking runny breastmilk poopie…on a changing pad that’s not on a stable surface. Nice, huh?

Imagine the picture if you can: I’m holding Nora straight up and down trying to keep her shirt out of the poopie, although her feet are dipped in the poopie because she’s so dang long…Larry’s trying to wipe her off…the three adults in the car are laughing their heads off…the poopie is running all over the changing pad. What happens next, you ask? We run out of wipes, of course. Never fear though…we have restaurant napkins in the glove box. One problem with the napkins is that they are dry. Mommy to the rescue…I handed Nora off to Larry and spit on the napkins. Maybe not the best thing in the world, but I had a poopie-footed child on my hands. Desperate times call for using spat-on napkins as baby wipes.

Don’t worry…the story gets better. I’m holding Nora…who, for the most part, is poop-free…but not yet diapered. Larry said, “Well as long as she doesn’t pee…” Nora took this to be a request…and she promptly peed everywhere. By now I’ve got tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. I think this was a situation where you laugh so you don’t cry. We managed to keep ourselves pee and poop free…we only had minor pee spillage into the cup holder. Finally we got Nora re-diapered and re-dressed. Amazingly enough she didn’t cry throughout this whole ordeal. I figured it’d be prime scream time…what with her butt hanging out and the two of us man handling her and all. Larry disposed of the evidence while Mom got Nora back in her carseat.