Monday, August 23, 2004
Diaper Disasters: Part 2
Thursday, August 19th, 2004
Again, sometime between 3-4 am
So after my first diaper gaff on Tuesday night, I was trying hard to be the good father and husband. When my WW shoved me at some awful hour of the night, I was up as if I'd been on Surgery call. Instantly alert and ready for action.
Kayla and I go into her room for the diaper change. I'm trying to do this by night light as I don't want to stimulate her too much and would like to keep her in "sleep mode." Nice poopy diaper.
So here I am in the danger zone. I've got the dirty diaper off and her bottom clean and I'm preparing the new diaper. Incidentally, if you have a male child, "the danger zone" is more perilous as the little guys have a tendency to piss in your eye at this point. Since I have a female, I thought that I was in the clear. In hindsight, I couldn't have been more wrong.
Suddenly, Kayla stops grunting and I hear this huge fart from the changing table. Utilizing my cat-like reflexes honed during many years of college drinking games (I never got wet from a spilled beer) I leapt out of the way while keeping one hand on Kayla (check the technique, yo). I look back at my cute little bean and notice that the changing table was a mess. I then turn on the light only to discover, much to my horror, that my little 6lb cutie pie managed to fart a geyser of shit across the room, painting the floor and the futon and relegating me to an hours worth of cleaning and laundry at 4am.
Moral of this story, reflexes honed in college sometimes betray you during fatherhood AND sometimes, its better to "jump on the grenade."
If I had the benefit of this wisdom, I would have only needed to hop in the shower and would have been back to bed in 15 minutes.
Again, sometime between 3-4 am
So after my first diaper gaff on Tuesday night, I was trying hard to be the good father and husband. When my WW shoved me at some awful hour of the night, I was up as if I'd been on Surgery call. Instantly alert and ready for action.
Kayla and I go into her room for the diaper change. I'm trying to do this by night light as I don't want to stimulate her too much and would like to keep her in "sleep mode." Nice poopy diaper.
So here I am in the danger zone. I've got the dirty diaper off and her bottom clean and I'm preparing the new diaper. Incidentally, if you have a male child, "the danger zone" is more perilous as the little guys have a tendency to piss in your eye at this point. Since I have a female, I thought that I was in the clear. In hindsight, I couldn't have been more wrong.
Suddenly, Kayla stops grunting and I hear this huge fart from the changing table. Utilizing my cat-like reflexes honed during many years of college drinking games (I never got wet from a spilled beer) I leapt out of the way while keeping one hand on Kayla (check the technique, yo). I look back at my cute little bean and notice that the changing table was a mess. I then turn on the light only to discover, much to my horror, that my little 6lb cutie pie managed to fart a geyser of shit across the room, painting the floor and the futon and relegating me to an hours worth of cleaning and laundry at 4am.
Moral of this story, reflexes honed in college sometimes betray you during fatherhood AND sometimes, its better to "jump on the grenade."
If I had the benefit of this wisdom, I would have only needed to hop in the shower and would have been back to bed in 15 minutes.
