We're doomed
Some people might ask why we can't go on long trips at this particular juncture. No, we haven't taken a vacation in a long time. Yes, we are tired and stressed out and yes, we deserve one.
However, let me recap the events of yesterday, and you be the judge:
We pack up the kiddies in the van and head to a mall to look at desks for Jr.
As we pull into the parking lot we hear a suspiciously explosive sound from the back.
I remove Jr. #2 from the car and clean up gallons of diarrhea from his legs, shoes and bottom. I throw wipes and destroyed underwear in a plastic bag to throw away. I throw soiled yet potentially salvageable shorts in the trunk.
I have no extra shorts but his shirt covers his clean underwear. We get to the mall and I run into a kids' clothing store and buy a pair of shorts.
We put them on him in the store and head to Pottery Barn Kids to look at desks. After we discover none of them are the right size I think I smell something. I see a woman looking at me in disgust. I look down and notice Jr #2s new shorts have a watery brown stain heading south. I drag him to the store bathroom and try to clean him. I run out of wipes and start using paper towels. I have one extra plastic bag in which I put the new dirty shorts. I realize I have no new underwear, pull-ups or diapers, just Jr. #3's size 3 diapers. I put one on him, hanging together by a thread and pray they stay on until we get home.
We leave the store in shirt and precarious diaper and head to the parking lot. Jr. #2 spies a play area and takes off. We chase him around and around. I am terrified the diaper will fall off. We finally make it to the car.
There is a chance Cranky is going to win a company-paid trip next year. He may have to go alone.
However, let me recap the events of yesterday, and you be the judge:
We pack up the kiddies in the van and head to a mall to look at desks for Jr.
As we pull into the parking lot we hear a suspiciously explosive sound from the back.
I remove Jr. #2 from the car and clean up gallons of diarrhea from his legs, shoes and bottom. I throw wipes and destroyed underwear in a plastic bag to throw away. I throw soiled yet potentially salvageable shorts in the trunk.
I have no extra shorts but his shirt covers his clean underwear. We get to the mall and I run into a kids' clothing store and buy a pair of shorts.
We put them on him in the store and head to Pottery Barn Kids to look at desks. After we discover none of them are the right size I think I smell something. I see a woman looking at me in disgust. I look down and notice Jr #2s new shorts have a watery brown stain heading south. I drag him to the store bathroom and try to clean him. I run out of wipes and start using paper towels. I have one extra plastic bag in which I put the new dirty shorts. I realize I have no new underwear, pull-ups or diapers, just Jr. #3's size 3 diapers. I put one on him, hanging together by a thread and pray they stay on until we get home.
We leave the store in shirt and precarious diaper and head to the parking lot. Jr. #2 spies a play area and takes off. We chase him around and around. I am terrified the diaper will fall off. We finally make it to the car.
There is a chance Cranky is going to win a company-paid trip next year. He may have to go alone.
posted by Cranky's Wife @ 6:14 AM
2 Comments:
At 10:00 PM,
Crankyboy said…
Question: Did anyone suggest going back home right after poop event number #1? If so who was that person? While you're thinking about that a cranky vacation solo sounds interesting.
At 6:25 AM,
Capt. Fogg said…
Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the soiled through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his childrens' keeper and the cleanser of befouled children.
And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to flee my wrath and you will know my name is The FOGG when I lay my vengeance upon thee.
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