And Now We Know

Apr 14

It all started so innocently. A beautiful Saturday and a few errands to run. So the family headed into Bed Bath & Beyond with a handful of coups in our hands. As we were headed to the registers in record time, the wife and I commented on how efficient we had been. So there we were, standing in line at the registers ready to head onto the next stop.

Then Matthew gave us “the face”. Following the face, we heard the grunts. After the grunts, came the smell. Ordinarily you have to get up close and personal, i.e. sniff Matthew’s butt like a dog to get a whiff. But it hit so fast and so hard that discussion quickly turned to when, or more importantly where the diaper change would happen.

Anne decided that she would head out to get a diaper from the car and do a quick change in the store. As she went to pick Matty up, plans changed. After noticing that he had leakage up his back that had seeped through his shirt, the situation went from code yellow – to code orange – to code red. As she lifted him out of the cart, his entire leg was soaked through. And then like the countdown on new years eve… 3-2-1… we had poop literally running down his leg, soaking through his pants, splashing onto the cart, the floor, products we were buying… and Anne’s clothes. CODE RED! We have a CODE RED!

And we thought the smell was bad. All we could do was laugh. I then looked at Anne and stated… I think we finally know what’s Beyond!

As the front end manager pointed us to an open register, we alerted her to the situation at hand. Trying to maintain our composure, we asked for a mop, paper towels, really anything wet to try and clean up. As she quickly hustled off to grab something, the next employee to walk by, a pimply face high schooler, asked if we needed help… but I could tell he was praying that I would say no. The manager returned with paper towels in hand and we attempted to clean up the spill in aisle 4.

All the while Matty was smiling and just chillin’ like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like poop running down his leg is just something that happens everyday.

Somehow we managed to clean the mess-o-potamia (as best we could) and they didn’t even kick us out of the store. Quite the opposite, we were pushed through to the front of the line where we quickly checked out. Others were nice enough to understand as they were regaling us with stories of their own youngsters’ pooptastrophes. However we had another situation to deal with- no change of clothes and a brand new car seat.

The Crime Scene

It wasn’t but 20 minutes prior that Anne was making fun of the clear plastic bags in my car that were my ghetto solution for avoiding the county bag tax. Now these earlier mocked items were carefully lining the trunk so we could try and contain the mess that had erupted. As we laid Matty down, Anne carefully peeled away his freshly soiled clothes one piece at a time.

The Evidence

All the while trying to contain any additional remnants from rubbing all over Junior.

As Matthew stared back at us oblivious to the destruction he had created, we once again could do nothing but laugh at our situation. As Anne very inadequately gave him a sponge bath with some not-so-wet wet wipes, we noticed onlookers watching us change a 10 month old boy in the trunk of our car. I could only imagine what I would have thought of this scene prior to becoming a parent myself.

Finally cleaned up with all major chunks removed and having cancelled all immediate plans, we were ready to head home. We added an extra layer of paper towel protection across his new seat for he was sporting a diaper and nothing else. Not exactly the look we intended while out in public.

Still the cutest

On the way home, still laughing about the disaster we had just survived, I offered that we were lucky that both of us where there when the blast occurred. I couldn’t imagine one of us dealing with the situation alone… specifically ME. We managed to get him home without another blowout and marched him directly into the tub… without passing go… without collecting $200.