Once upon a time (Friday), Everett and I were at University Village picking up some last-minute party supplies for Meg’s big bash. We had popped into Storables to grab a couple of things, when my mama nose radar went off and I realized that Ev had pooped. But, when I bent down to ask him about it, I felt that the entire back of his pants, all the way down both legs, was soaked… and I could tell that it wasn’t pee.
For the second time last week, I had the distinct feeling that I was on a bad reality game show (turns out the Real World/Road Rules Challenge is still on the air, by the way! thanks for the tip, MS.) as I weighed my options. I had diapers in my purse, but no extra clothes and I still had more shopping to do, plus, we were heading from U.Village to get Meg at school to photograph a new place for an article. In other words, going pant-less was just not an option.
We precariously made our way to one of the U.Village bathrooms, which are very nice and always clean, by the way and I set up camp on the floor of the handicap stall. Yes, I laid Everett directly on the floor of a public bathroom. Those elevated changing tables freak him out and I have to say, I needed him on the floor for this epic diaper so that I could get some leverage on the situation. Also working against me: I was wearing a white shirt, there were only five diaper wipes in my pack and I only had one plastic bag. This is Mom Survival 301 — Advanced Level Public Diaper Blow-Out.
Thankfully, I’ve taken this course before… a few times. It only took me three baby wipes to mop up the insane amount of shit that was smeared from ass to toe on Ev and I put the wipes, plus the offending diaper, in a tampon disposal bag from the bathroom, while saving the plastic bag for his pants. I do fully admit to throwing the diaper away in the bathroom garbage, but there was no way I was toting that thing out with me, so if you happened to use the restroom next to Theo Chocolates on Friday, my sincerest apologies. Fresh diaper on. Hand washing all around.
Off to GAP we strolled — me with a pair of shit filled pants in my purse and Everett in his diaper, strutting around like he was setting the hottest new trend in toddler-wear. He caused quite the stir at the register, with at least five other moms in line behind us who were all nodding and smiling at him, knowing exactly why I was buying him new pants and feeling thankful that it wasn’t them.
Moments like these are why I am thankful I have a blog. Because really, Ev handed this one to me on a silver platter. A silver platter dripping in shit, but still. A silver platter, nonetheless.