Then, within two or three months, something strange happens. The infant metabolism begins to change. The frequency of mango pudding pants (exactly what it looks like) slows down and sometimes even... stops.
Six days ago, Gray's Creation of Caca came to a screeching halt. It was as if someone had applied a cork.
Don't get me wrong, the diaper-changer in me rejoiced. We had looked forward to the slowing-of-the-flow for a long time, but for it to just stop? It's not something we anticipated.
The father in me freaked. Three days came and went. Four. FIVE days. (yesterday) Do you know what happens (other than hydroelectricity) when a dam is built?
And then came today, The Sixth Day.
It began like any other day. Grayson woke up between 6:00 and 7:00 am. He ate, he napped. Steady as she goes.
Do you know how dogs can sense impending natural disaster? Regis got the shakes and ran to the basement. I knew something evil was afoot.
As I was making coffee, Grayson's face turned a little red and he got a determined look on his face. A smell began permeating the air. I recognized the signs, grabbed the baby and ran for the shelter of the changing table. All the supplies we would need are there.
The natural disaster was apparently a volcano... and all we could do was sit tight and ride it out. After what felt like hours of eruption, belching of "smoke" and "ash," finally it was calm.
As I opened the diaper to survey the damage, the humid, acrid air enveloped my head and tears filled my eyes. The damage was widespread. The butt-lava flow had gotten into every crevice of his junk. Many trailer parks were destroyed.
I declared the diaper a disaster area and entered Rescue and Recovery mode. It required seven wet-wipes, a very strong gag reflex and all my National Guard-like skills.
Despite the widespread damage, no reinforcements would come. I was on my own, and that's okay. I do my best work in solitude. I had been preparing for this moment all my life. I dug in and did what I had to do... and before I knew it, the entire area had been rehabbed and life in Gray's pants was back to normal.
Yes, the Diaper Genie II paid for itself today.
Previous to Grayson's birth, I thought moms were the ones who changed the diapers. Today I discovered it takes a man to save the world.
On the sixth day, Gray created poop. And it was good.
7 comments:
I noticed that you came in to try to wake me up to tell me that the disaster was underway... Thanks for letting me go back to sleep and handling this one on your own.
Thanks to your lightning fast reaction time on this one, we saved an outfit, which probably would have been a total loss had the explosion escaped the perimeter of the diaper.
Wow - you really handled it all on your own? No way!
That's a major step for Daddy's everywhere - you know all of the mommies that read your blog are going to tell their hubby's - But Dave did it!
Yeah, you da man. Spouse Guy can, and does, do all manner of manly things, but never anything as manly as changing a poopy diaper.
Glad you survived the ass-plosion Dave. You did better than Paul would have. He would have been begging for reinforcement!
OMG I needed that laugh! How hilarious. Good for you for rising to the ocassion and taking care of business.
Thanks for the chuckle.
that child is amazing! and you are pretty good at the poop patrol too. well done.
I LOLed at the lava flow pic. Congrats on your heroism.
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