Ewwww - GROSS!

Now that I have your attention, this is not for the faint of heart. Oxygen masks will not be provided and airline emergency bags are in short supply. (I still have a bunch of vomit/garbage bags that Jared got me while he was on vacation one year - those were odd postcards!) Seriously, if you can't handle it, stop now...

All I can say is, we were in a hurry. We dropped Faith off at work, got supper prepared, ate, assembled the gear we needed for the night, and were about to step out the door when the inevitable happened. I had to go to the bathroom. Stop snickering. I know what you're thinking. That's what the kids and wife are usually guilty of. We'll get there. All joking aside, it was an emergency. Fortunately, I had just gotten the kids prepared so it would be simple to get them out to the van and on our way.

This only happens in a rush when you don't look before you sit. Budda boom budda bing - no toilet paper! I was resourceful and used what was there. Baby wipes! Only two left after that, mind you. But no matter, we'll refill them later so in another emergency we can be likewise unprepared.

Isn't it just Murphy's Law that when you are in a hurry, one or all people going on a trip need to in turn go to the bathroom? Micah (bless his heart) realized only after getting shoes and jacket on and in the van and buckled up that he needed to go. So, to repeat the process, Micah got out, dressed down, went, complained about the smell, dressed up, and was ready for our second attempt at leaving.

Meanwhile, Aslynn had a contorted look on her face that could only mean one thing - I'll need those baby wipes! Upstairs we go with little girl in tow and the two-wipe container. I then remembered that we had no replacement wipes in the closet, meaning we only had one shot at this. All hope was lost when I saw the state of affairs on the business end of things. She had been slimed! I quickly hoisted her out of the diaper to attack the brown mess with the two wipes I had. And then it happened...

The weight of the precariously poised diaper toppled it over the edge as I lifted her bottom skyward. My hand that once reached for wipes made a sudden mid-flight maneuver to catch the bomb before my brain had an opportunity to play out the scenario. With the victorious catch came a horrifying realization - I had been slimed! Diaper face-down in hand and child hoisted in the other, I cautiously set Aslynn down and made my way to the sink. I hoped that in her greasy state she would not slide of the table herself. I washed quickly, bundled the remaining poo in the diaper, and chucked it into the garbage.

To my dismay, the change pad was in need of a change. But hark! Nothing had gotten on her clothes (a miracle!). I wiped down her posterior and did a final rinse with the remaining wipe. I also took care of the change pad with the same wipe still feeling a sense of accomplishment and awe. A little powder, new diaper, and good as new!

I delicately picked up the girl and the soiled wipes and hurriedly made my way to the garbage. In my haste, a wipe fell to the ground laden with you-know-what and my foot managed to step in it. Fortunately or unfortunately, however you might look at it, it landed do-do side up and got all over my sock. At least it wasn't the floor! Wipes in garbage, sock in garbage, foot in sink, hands in sink, the sweet smell of disinfecting antibacterial hand wash everywhere...

And we were out the door. Drop off the projector for someone else, set things up, off to worship practice in Airdrie - and back to pick up Faith for the end of her shift. I was late for practice, but not too late. I even stopped for a vehicle with his hazard lights on. Son of a mechanic, you know. I must know something about vehicles. I just don't want to look under the hood of a diaper for a while.

- Mark