An early morning diaper change, barely awake. I remove the diaper, and check the contents - nothing extraordinary. Tossing the diaper into the trash over my shoulder, I yawn and pluck a couple wet wipes. I got this. Half-asleep, 5am, no problemo. I could do this baby business blindfolded now. Baby Boy looks at me, cooing, in a happy morning mood. Through my own morning misery, my lips can't help but break a smile, breaking my lip crust (after having drooled through two whole hours of uninterrupted sleep, following Feeding #10 at 3am).
This morning, I learn this vital lesson:
- Have Your Next Diaper Ready Before you Undo the Last
Suddenly, I am bombarded by simultaneous eruptions of spurting poop-lava and a warm pee-fountain. I swiftly field two additional streams of hissing poop, as they squirt furiously in various directions, using only wet wipes as shields. I am gravely under-armed.
As calm gradually returns to the scene, I contemplate the anti-climactic clean-up. Then, with Karate Master speed, I grab his leg before it is dunked into bubbling lava. Let's do paint-dipped footprint portraits later, Baby.
Baby watches me with large, vacant eyes. That must be the look of infant love. We regard each other with adoration for a sweet moment, and I hope that by now, in this field of poop and pee - none of which is my own, Baby will finally realize I have passed and surpassed all his tests to prove my true love. That's when he turns his head to the side, vomits milk over his shoulder and turns back to me, with an innocent blink, as if nothing happened. I would have thought it was sleep-deprived hallucination if it weren't for the puddle of milk-white sick-up, soaking into baby hair.
No need for coffee this morning. Wide awake.
[2018: Please comment if you like any of these short stories/blog posts and I will post more]
This morning, I learn this vital lesson:
- Have Your Next Diaper Ready Before you Undo the Last
Suddenly, I am bombarded by simultaneous eruptions of spurting poop-lava and a warm pee-fountain. I swiftly field two additional streams of hissing poop, as they squirt furiously in various directions, using only wet wipes as shields. I am gravely under-armed.
As calm gradually returns to the scene, I contemplate the anti-climactic clean-up. Then, with Karate Master speed, I grab his leg before it is dunked into bubbling lava. Let's do paint-dipped footprint portraits later, Baby.
Baby watches me with large, vacant eyes. That must be the look of infant love. We regard each other with adoration for a sweet moment, and I hope that by now, in this field of poop and pee - none of which is my own, Baby will finally realize I have passed and surpassed all his tests to prove my true love. That's when he turns his head to the side, vomits milk over his shoulder and turns back to me, with an innocent blink, as if nothing happened. I would have thought it was sleep-deprived hallucination if it weren't for the puddle of milk-white sick-up, soaking into baby hair.
No need for coffee this morning. Wide awake.
[2018: Please comment if you like any of these short stories/blog posts and I will post more]
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