*facepalm* *again*

You’d think one of these days I’d learn. Really.

Today was my first day off. With my husband back in school, the luck of the draw gave me Wednesdays and Thursdays with the kids. I ran out of cream this morning, which is generally a disaster, and this is where my story begins. In amongst all of the back-to-daycare shopping, I made the belated discovery that I had no rubber boots for Biggest. Which was unfortunate, because it was pouring outside. Since we were already headed out in the afternoon, I figured we’d pick some boots up on our way to my friend’s house. We’ve been baby buddies since I was pregnant with Biggest, as she was due two months before I was.. She’s also the friend who talked me into trying pole fitness. (Side note, she will now be referred to as Wife… She, my sister, and myself have a sort of “Wives Club”, as all three of us and all three of our husbands are well acquainted and enjoy each other’s company on a regular basis.) Anyway… With the detour for cream, I decided that having a short bath to myself was a good idea. Everything was going well until I got out of the bath, at which point I realized that I had somehow missed Biggest’s door quietly opening, and Biggest quietly eating over half of the batch of cookies I made earlier. Furthering my misfortune was the perusing of the bus schedule, and finding out that I had half an hour to get us to the bus stop. I had preoccupied myself with making scones instead of first checking the schedule, which would have been a better idea.

I can shake my head at the Cookie Incident, as I had both boys in their rooms playing quietly, and therefore had all of my bases covered. I can even forgive my child, partly because he left enough for me, and partly because he gave me a profuse apology upon realizing that I wouldn’t be able to share any with Grammy or Wife. Apparently he was under the impression that the cookies belonged only to the two of us, so it was ok to eat them all. He also promised to ask me next time.

Back to my story. I did manage to get us out in enough time to have mostly cooked scones safely nestled in my bag, and with a full 10 minutes to stand in the rain and wonder if I could have cooked my scones a bit longer. Once we made it downtown, and only then, did I realize that the wipes were sitting on the floor of our apartment. I only realized this because Littlest has eaten too much dairy the last couple of days, and really let one fly while we were trying on boots. I then dragged both boys to the library, where we discovered that the public washroom with the change table was out of order, and we had no choice but to use the stand up stall in the ladies washroom.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to change a liquid poop whilst your child is standing? Without being able to take shoes and pants off? It’s hard. Guess what else is hard? Not having wipes while you’re doing it. I cannot tell you how grateful I am that Biggest understands me enough to bring me paper towel, and how fabulously thrilled I am that he’s tall enough to wet them in the sink first. Somehow we managed to get the job done. But not before I soaped up Littlest’s jacket, and the bottom of my bag, simply because my germ-o-matic sense came out and freaked the crap out of me. Oh. Pardon the pun. Yikes…

This is, in fact, the reason why I ask myself “when will I learn?”. You’d think after two kids, I would remember that anytime I don’t think I need something will be the one time my son craps his pants and has to be changed standing up. Actually… I think that’s the first time for that occurrence.

The rest of our afternoon passed without incident, unless you count the final poop that used up all my diapers and had me crossing my fingers that he wouldn’t need another one. Otherwise…

The bottom line? Plan for the unexpected, don’t check the bus schedule late because you had detours and took too long in the bath… and always, ALWAYS, carry a container of wipes.

The Handler.


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