Diaper Changing Dilemma

I am sure that some of my fellow parents can commiserate with me. It started out as an ordinary diaper change. I took the giggling child and placed her down upon the changing table.

The very same table that once engulfed her tiny body and now seems tiny. I used to pretend with her that she was an airplane that needed to land on an aircraft carrier. That worked really well when the difference in size between her and the table more closely resembled that between plane and aircraft carrier.

We must be feeding her well because the difference between them is minor. Another inch or so and she’ll have to fold her legs in order to fit. Of course that presumes that the dear girl decided to cooperate and that is a bet that the oddsmakers in Vegas would take in a heartbeat.

10 to 1 says that as soon as I am fully engulfed in the changing procedure she’ll decide move around. It won’t be basic squirming. No this will be a situation in which entire body will shake and shimmy like a wet dog trying to dry itself off.

And like the flecks of water that are flung off of the dog I’ll be concerned about errant specks of toddler poop flying through the air. Just what I need, my own homegrown Pearl Harbor. But I am a resourceful and experienced father so I have my own ritual.

The talking doll usually does a good job of distracting my princess long enough to wipe her cute butt clean and then slap that diaper on. The problem is that once children go vertical they really have limited interest in being placed in a horizontal position.

In respect to my own children that only happens if they are sleeping, otherwise being asked to maintain a horizontal posture is akin to torture. You should hear the shrieks. That is why the talking doll is so important.

So there we were, father, daughter, talking doll and changing table. Father and daughter did the distraction dance in which I gathered all of the necessary tools for a successful diaper changing operation.

I cannot stress how important the diaper distraction dance is. If the little girl realizes why she is being taken in the other room she’ll try and flee. There are too many toys to play with, too many other things that interest her more than being changed.

Dad dances and sings and down she goes on the changing table. So far it is flawlessly executed operation. Daughter is momentarily distracted and we are fully engulfed in diaper changing duty when disaster strikes.

The last wipe is in my hand and this clearly calls for more than one. AWWWWWWWWWWWW! (you can fill in the second word, or if you are like me the third, fourth and fifth).

I was certain that there was more than one wipe but I was wrong. Red alert, Red alert. Danger Will Robinson! Danger Will Robinson!

Back in my salad days when I was a new and inexperienced dad I might have gone into full panic mode as this had potential to be quite messy. But now, I am an old hand at this so I grabbed the clean diaper and used it to finish cleaning the remaining mess.

It only took a moment more to grab a new clean diaper and finish the process. Disaster was averted, but it was close, too close.

I’d write more but the star of the story needs my attention. It is time to play. See you later.

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