A Short Story - Fathers Day 2010

Drew April 1st 2007

"When you get married, you never realize how much you will talk about poop and pooping."

Heather looked at me as if I was crazy, and quickly glanced at Chris her boyfriend (she would later marry him.)   I wasn't being clear I realized, and had to save some face before they thought my wife and I had become some kinky internet fad marriage.

"Not each others poop, no no no.  I mean you talk about your kids poop a lot."  The looks on their faces had not changed enough to imply I had saved face.  Nope, they think my wife and I are freaks...

I start over again, this time with the story first.   It went something like this...

Changing diapers is sort of like an adventure with a new baby, or a box of See's candies without any good chocolates.  The best part about a first child is that you can ask for a tag team even if one is not necessitated.  Inevitably if you call a tag team enough you will need it, and on a warm early spring afternoon my wife and I went to change Drew's diaper.  We had all our brand new baby things, wipes, a fancy changing table that doubled as a pack-n-play.  Showing off my diaper changing prowess, I undid the onesie, put the fresh diaper under the old diaper and got the wipes ready.

With Drew, speed was the main order of business when it came to diaper changes.  If you moved too slow the warm air, or cold air, or the I have no idea what air made him pee, and pee every where including himself he did.  So if you are going to change this kid's diaper you better be all set.  My wife would undo the diaper I would grab his ankles life him up and start wiping, with my wife in all set to start wiping as I went for another wipe.  If it was a bad diaper you'd better be set to have five wipes ready to go without pausing or there would be pee everywhere.

Three wipes down, just about clean, and when you are a new parent you use way too many wipes anyways here comes wipe four.  I reach down for the wipe, still holding his ankles up in the air, moving in for maybe the last wipe when there was a poo explosion.  I didn't say event, or even a toot, not a little mess, no I said explosion, and that was just it, an explosion.  I guess me holding Drew's legs in the air, causing him to crunch his tummy, or maybe it was just "perfect" timing.  As I stood there, moving in to finish cleaning Drew, he shot poop clear across the room.  I deftly dropped Drew's butt on the changing pad and my wife and I jumped out of the way like a dodge ball was flying by us.  There was poop on the wall 5 feet away, the carpet, the super great changing pad, the new diaper, our clean wipes, his shirt, his clothes.  Everything was covered in poop.

So I grabbed a clean diaper, pre-prepped five or so wipes, because when you change Drew, you gotta be quick...