The Great Memphis Explosion of 2010

I really, really wish I had pictures to accompany this post.

You, however, are probably very, very glad I do not have pictures to accompany this post.

On Wednesday evening, Jonathan and I drove almost 30 minutes away to a suburb of Memphis in order to check out a traveling baby consignment sale.  A friend had gone the day before and snagged some awesome stuff (Maclaren stroller for $29! InStyle Pump for $45! OiOi $130 diaper bag for $15!) and we were going to try our luck.

Riggs almost always falls asleep in the car, so by the time we arrived at our destination he was still snoozing soundly.  I left Jonathan in the car and told him to join me inside when Riggs woke up.

I had been inside for about 15 minutes when my phone rang.

"Is he up?" I asked

"Um...you need to come out here.  He has had a huge blowout and I need help."

Now here is where you need to know that despite his medical affiliation, my husband does not love the bodily functions of our little guy.  Even the tiniest bit of spit up or poop really grosses him out.  So I shook my head, thinking that he was completely exaggerating.  But the dude was at a baby consignment sale with me, so I didn't want to push my luck.

I headed outside and saw Jonathan standing hear the trunk, holding Riggs in a standing position on the back of the car.  As I got closer, I saw that he had definitely not exaggerated.  Not one bit.

There stood my husband, his entire front smeared with yellow baby poop.  And there stood my son, globs of poo dripping down his little legs, puddling onto the back of the car.

"Oh. My. Gosh," was all I could muster.

"Just look at the car seat," Jonathan replied.

There in our beautiful new Chicco were two puddles of the yellow goo.

Jonathan had heard Riggs wake up and gotten him out of the car seat.  Only after he had pulled our little guy backwards into his chest did he see the puddles.  By that point it was too late...he was slimed.  And then the slime just kept coming.

I grabbed the diaper bag and went to work, completely forgoing the changing pad (it would have been ruined forever!) and just laying Riggs out on the back end of the car.  I popped open the wipes case, and I said a bad word.

Three. Dry. Wipes.

I had been using Riggs' little tote bag to take him to bible study and such that week, so that bag was totally stocked with fresh wipes.  But the diaper bag that I carry almost like a purse and don't leave with him in the nursery had been neglected.

That's when all those napkins that you get at fast food joints and shove in your glove box come in handy.

So there we were, in a parking lot, looking like unfit parents as we changed our filthy child's bare backside on the bare backside of a Toyota Camry with napkins.  All we could do was laugh.

Luckily, I had a few plastic grocery bags in the trunk, so we were able to seal off the toxic waste until our return home (thank goodness for the removable car seat padding!).  By the time we finished up--with Riggs now in pajamas, on a 95% day, since I hadn't changed out the spare outfit since our trip to Colorado--the poo smears on Jonathan's shirt had dried (ew).  We were 30 minutes from home and not about to leave without scanning the store, so Jonathan carried Riggs strategically in front of him in order to hide the poo.  I suggested we just get a hot dog with lots of mustard from Sonic to carry around as a prop, but he didn't go for it.

So there you have it folks: the greatest blow-out of our sweet little petunia's life to date.  It was a doozy.  But we definitely made a memory!  Oh, and if you were hoping I scored a Peg Perego for $10 that made it all worth it, no such luck.  I only got two outfits at the sale.  Not a victory by any means.

Morals of this Story:

• Always check to be sure you are stocked with fresh wipes and keep a tub of wipes in the trunk of your car for emergencies.
• Plastic grocery sacks can be indispensable hazardous waste receptacles.  
• A good soak in OxyClean can cleanse even the most disgusting toxic waste dumps.  
• Bird poop is not the only threat to your car's paint job (Jonathan was out washing our car at 9 p.m.  Who knows what it would have done to the paint if left overnight, but we weren't about to find out!  "Oh yeah, that corrosion on the trunk?  Our son pooped on the car and it really did a number on the paint job.  With that affect our resale value?"
• It might not be a bad idea to keep one spare shirt for each parent in the trunk too!
• Always travel with a camera in order to capture priceless blackmail footage to use against your children in their teen years.  
• It doesn't matter how old you are...poop jokes never get old!  ("Man, honey...this sure turned out to be a crappy trip!  Bahahaha!")