Afternoon, morning, evening or whatever time of day it is to you. As you all know, the wifey is in California on a business trip so the business of taking care of the kids is all up to me now.
I had an even this morning. Beanie is just so wiggly. So when he went poopie, it was a wrestling match with him to change his pamper. I’ve seen the wife take charge and she can lay him down, wipe and switch out all within a minute…I’m not so lucky.
So Beanie is fighting me. I know he has the mudbutt due to the flies and putrid smell coming from his general area. I peal off the pamper and reveal a pamper FULL OF POO. It covered not only the back but all of the front too.
The whole time, Beanie is trying to roll over and continue to play. I have to restrain his arms with my feet so I can get some good leverage before I dive in. I have the wipes on the right and the powder on the left. Now the wife would go into this with no more than 2 wipes. I’ve seen some of her encounters and I don’t see how 2 wipes would even make a dent. So I wipe and I wipe and I wipe, Beanie is steady rocking trying to turn over. I dive in to wipe with the look of eeewwwww on my face and as I am moving in, Beanie kicks my wipe just as I am about to scoop a handful. Oh the horror. I don’t know if you know what it is like to scoop a hand full of crap, but just imagine. The next time your eating nice, thick and rich oatmeal, grab it with your four-fingers…that’s what it’s like. \
Immediately I want to go wash it off, but I can’t because the second I move, Beanie is gonna leave a smear trail of boo-boo all over the house until I get back. I can’t grab the wipes because they are concealed in this stupid wrapping BARRIER so getting one of those is next to impossible without ruining the bunch. So, I do what every man in America would have done…I wiped it on my shirt. Luckily it wasn’t a favorite shirt because if it was, it would have been wiped on my son’s shirt. Yes, I’m serious.
So I get the poo off of my hand and complete the whole ordeal by wiping him clean. The entire time I am puckering and eeeeewwwwwing the whole way. I change out Beanie’s clothes, make sure Peanut is secure and immediately jump in the shower. I just knew that if I didn’t I was going to smell sewage aaaaaalllllllllllllllllllll DAY!
One would think that after 4 boys, I would have a better handle on changing out pampers, but I am not as skilled as the Diva. She gets props for that.
4 Responses to “The Art of Changing a Pamper”
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OMG, I’m dying laughing. This is the best post ever!!!! Way to tackle that pamper like a man. I can’t believe one episode of poo led you to ruining a shirt and taking a shower. ROFL.
I have tears in my eyes I am laughing so hard.
AW man I haven’t laughed this hard in a while.
LOL that is so funny! My youngest fights me when I change him and every time he gets either his fingers or his feet in the POOP! EWW!!! Oh and I too have ended up with the stuff on me! You are not alone my friend!
That. Was. Hysterical.
Hysterical, I say!!!