Parenting: Shouldn't we be getting hazard pay?

(This post is dedicated to all you parents out there. If you have kids, you'll know what I'm talking about. If you don't, spend some time in considerable thought and prayer before you take the plunge.)

Ever have one of those days when Murphy's Law seems to be in full effect (or maybe everyday is like that for you)? Well, yesterday evening is when it hit for me. I had just gotten our kids from the babysitter and dropped Caleb off at Vacation Bible School at our church yesterday evening.

I had promised Andrew that we would eat dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants (names have been withheld to protect the innocent) and then if he was good, we would head over to Barnes & Noble to play with Thomas the Train. And the plan was working beautifully...too beautifully as it turned out. I should have known something was up.

The whole time we were eating Andrew was at his absolute best behavior, doing everything possible to ensure a trip to Barnes. Even as I took extra time to feed Mark, Andrew played contentedly by himself at the table...and then I saw the all-too-familiar prolonged, red-faced grunt that every parent knows as he proceeded to fill his diaper. Unfortunately, as he was standing there by the table, it quickly became apparent that the weight limit exceeded the diaper's maximum capacity resulting in what the lifeguard community notoriously refers to as a "fecal incident" right there on the floor in the dining area.

Poor kid...Andrew was standing there somewhat embarassed and doing what 2-year olds do in a situation like that, absentmindedly walking in it and spreading the mess.

Needless to say, I immediately went into triage mode: 1. First order of business? Containment. I told Andrew to hold onto the chair and "DO NOT MOVE!" while I went for help. 2. Call in the cavalry (namely, some poor sap who never realized that getting paid minimum wage to work at a fast-food joint including cleaning up feces). 3. Get Andrew (and Mark) to the Men's room without drawing too much attention and "spreading the wealth" to all the other customers.

While we were trying to transition from the dining area to the bathroom, Mark was crying (which only served to draw attention to our little "situation"). So, I scooped up Andrew and tried to close off the bottom end of his shorts so as not to leave a trail of land mines all the way to the bathroom. Then, while simultaneously carrying Mark in his car carrier, we made our way through the crowd toward the bathroom (through a birthday party no less. If the other parents had known the little bundle of joy I was carrying through their festive revelry, there would have been a mutiny for sure.)

We made it to the bathroom and into the handicapped stall, which was equipped with the standard wall-mounted changing table. So, while Mark continued to cry, I managed to get Andrew's shorts off, but the only means of cleaning up the blowout was to flush the toilet and try to get as much fresh water in the bowl as possible. I hesitated for a minute contemplating what I was about to do, but I figured hand-scrubbing out his shorts in the toilet couldn't be any worse than the situation we were already in. So there was Andrew squirming around, using his backside to do his best Jackson Pollock artistic impression all over the changing table in the bathroom stall, while Mark was screaming (and I was trying not to). And to top it off, I looked in the diaper bag and there were only two baby wipes and no extra clothes (the result of my having left our babysitter ill-prepared that morning, which left me woefully ill-prepared that evening). I was quickly running out of options while the mess multiplied itself all over everything. It was brutal!

(I don't know about some of you, especially you dads out there, but I'm not much of a "number 2" guy myself when it comes to the kids. I can change wet diapers until the cows come home, but the "dirties" are not my cup of tea. Just ask Jean. :)

After cleaning out his shorts as best we could, and likewise, attempting to clean out the treads on his little sandals from his earlier tramp through the muck, I put a new diaper on him and tried to get the bathroom back in one piece. Then we beat a hasty retreat for the door and finally got back in the van.

But, it was at this point that the reality of our situation descended upon us. Without a new pair of shorts, Barnes was out of the question. But when I tried to explain that to Andrew, he understandably took it hard. And then I took it hard, because he been such a good kid and had worked so hard to get there, only to see the whole thing blow up (in the back of his pants no less). He started crying, and then I started crying (and Mark was still crying), so I'm sure anyone walking past the van would have thought we had lost our marbles for sure.

Never fear...after some further pondering, I decided to put plan B into effect which involved a 45 minute roundtrip back home to get Andrew a new set of clothes and still be able to make it back to the church to pick Caleb up at the church by 8:30pm. If we hustled we could make it just in time. And that's exactly what we did. We picked up Caleb and the Crane men headed off to Barnes. Dad was exhausted and it was well past their bedtimes, but it didn't matter.

Because the moral of the story is...Poop or no poop, a promise is a promise. All's well that ends well, I suppose (though we finally got home at 10:30 p.m.) Isn't it great being a parent? I wouldn't trade it for the world! :)

Comments

[DJ]

John...I'm almost at a loss for words. I think every parent has been there, perhaps not in such a public place, but we've all been there. And I love the moral of the story...a promise is a promise!!! Hang in there brother.

[Mandy]

John, you're the man. I can honestly say taht I don't remember anything that crazy happening to us, not because it didn't, but because God is so good to us that he wipes those times clean away from our memories. What a great God!!

[Mike Erickson]

I love kids.

[Jim Leech]

My wife conveniently forgets the time at Purdue when I was home alone with Will, he was about 1, our first kid, I don't know what the heck I'm doing to begin with, and I get the poops through the diaper to my lap and the couch. Then, as I am trying to clean that up, he proceeds to start throwing up on me, himself and the couch. Granted, your story beats mine as I was at home, but it is definitely a moment I'll never forget. I'm with you, man, I wouldn't trade it!!

[Greg]

John, I got initiated into the club about 15 years ago with my oldest, who's 17 now. I want to officially welcome you and as a member, you get a lifetime of memories and stories that you can tell the grandkids. My mom occasionaly tells the story of when I was two and decided the walls needed decorating.

[Mandy]

I, personally, did some wall decorating myself! I used a fabulous shade of Crayola purple, my favorite. I wrote my name, backwards to be exact, right on the wall behind her bedroom curtains. When my mom asked me if I did it, of course, I denied it (like someone else would have done it). She never did paint over it.

[Resident Atheist]

Here's my parenting poop story; every parent has had one. Home alone. My son broke a full glass bottle of lotion on the bathroom floor. He then pooped on the other bathroom floor during cleanup. Meanwhile, my daughter was crying in her swing with a full diaper. The phone was ringing, someone was at the door, and I had no pants on. Pure chaos.

[Andy Bullock]

Dude, right there with you. John, I have the same exact story except he pooped all over the church nursery, after we had been in the building less than 3 months. Awesome... initiation complete! Anyone that knows me can confirm, like father, like son.

[Abby]

OK here's another one....Went to get family photos done. Scott was wearing a white shirt and Hailey a beautiful pink dress. She poops through the dress, all over Scott, and it lands on the studio floor.....

[Resident Atheist]

I think I'll pass on seeing those glamour shots. No amount of fuzzy bordering will help that.

[blessed-with-3]

It seems every parent has a poop story. While shopping at Michael's one day 2 1/2 yr old Justin kept trying to show me something on the floor in the picture frame aisle. I was so busy trying to stop newborn Evan from crying that I didn't notice Justin has pooped in his shorts and it fell out the leg of his underwear and landed on the floor. When I saw the store associate going down the aisle with gloves and a garbage bag I quickly gathered up the boys and headed out the door!