The Diaper Change

I recall, back in the day, pitying my friends when their conversation would abruptly turn from romance and adventure and ideas and aspirations to... diapers and strollers and feedings and sleep schedules. It seemed so awful to suddenly be in a situation where your time was so consumed with mundanity that it negated practically all stimulating, intelligent, or interesting conversation.

And now, here is my diaper changing story:

I should begin by informing you that our son went three days without evacuation of his bowels. This happened about a week ago. Three days is a lot for anyone, but at the time it represented about 20% of his life. Imagine a single bout of constipation that went on for 20% of your life.

Thankfully, he has been more regular over the past week or so. I mention that history as a backdrop to this tale.

About 30 minutes ago, the little one started crying. It seemed that he needed a diaper change. So I took him up to the changing station. I opened up the diaper and found that he had, indeed, deposited proof that he was over the constipation issue. I cleaned him up.

Unfortunately, in the middle of the diaper change, he decided to prove to me that his bladder was working well. But I was well prepared. I used the new diaper to shield both of us. "No problem," I thought. However, just as I was patting myself on the back, he decided to give me additional proof that he is over the constipation issue. I caught it using another diaper that I had laid out for him. It was a tremendous juggling act but I masterfully had everything under control.

I then removed the 2nd soiled diaper and reached for a third. Just then, the little guy really erupted. And it didn't stop. He had set me up! He had lulled me into thinking that he was done. But he had saved the coup de grâce for last. I held his legs up to keep them from turning the room into a true environmental disaster. Then he started really screaming.

I'm going to make an executive editorial decision at this point and will omit further details.

I cleaned him up, changed his clothing, changed his diaper again, and then had to deal with the rest of the mess.

So there you have it. I am a changer of diapers and have the tales to prove it.