Grace and the Great Poo

Earlier this week, I decided to do something great for my wife. I took off work for the day and kept Grace, our five-week-old daughter, while my wife left for a girl's day out.

Now before I go on with the story, it should be noted that this is not my first, nor is it even the second time I have kept my daughter by myself. I have even changed numerous pampers on my daughter throughout her month and one week existence.

Here's how it all unfolded. Shortly before my daughter's 1 p.m. feeding, I began to change her diapers. Unfortunately, the diaper change was happening in the middle of - what we'll call - a detailed transaction. I immediately pulled out a pamper and slid it underneath my daughter's soiled pamper, and waited for her to be finished.

When she was done, I simply discarded the old diaper, cleaned her off and put on the brand new one underneath. It was a simple as that, or so I thought.

But little did I know, Grace had other ideas for me. Somehow she began to restart the transaction, while I was about to put her clothes back on. Needless to say, I was caught off guard, but prepared for this. I just got a new pamper and proceeded to clean her off again.

Only this time, I was convinced that Grace was finished. Boy was I wrong. What happened next, is probably a scene that has occurred at least once in every new dad's life and the results were messy.

Grace restarted the transaction yet again, only this time I didn't have a backup pamper and some of it got on her clothes. Freaking out, I removed her clothes rather quickly, only to discover some of the transaction leaked onto her bassinet.

Furthermore, it saturated the small pad she was laying on. Oh crud, what am I going to do. Then stuff really got real. Grace, who is only a little more than eight pounds, still kept going.

My eyes turned blood shot read, as my little bundle of joy had a back covered in poop, and her had in turn ruined her nice pink outfit. The wipes that we had on standby near her bassinet were good, but they weren't miracle workers.

My first thought was, if I don't clean Grace up quick she's going to have some bacterial infection. My second and third thoughts respectively were, my wife is going to kill me, and ... my wife is going to kill me. My next thought was I've got to clean this up quick and wash Grace off. I quickly rubbed her down to make sure all of it was off and I took her upstairs and placed her on a towel, on our bed (big mistake). I ran and got a little tub to give her a thorough cleaning and to get some new clothes for her.

It should be noted, that Charlotte, our Boston Terrier, just stared at me like I was crazy the whole time. If she could talk, I believe she just would have hung her head in disbelief and said dead man walking.

But back to the story. Grace then began to cry and let out a huge wail, letting me know that this was uncomfortable. I washed her off quickly and was in the process of putting on a new pamper. She then got very quiet and just looked at me. I got in close to reassure her and give her a zerbert, when she hit me with one last parting shot.

No, not another detailed transaction, but rather a brief sprinkle, just to let me know who was really in charge of our household.

All I could do was laugh. When my wife finally got home, she asked a question that I don't think I will ever ask her again when I get home from work. Yes, these five simple words are enough to drive any new parent, who's watching a baby insane.

"So how did it go?"

It should be against the law to even utter this phrase.

But me being the person I am, I simply looked at my wife, and in a low-pitched tone, I said fine dear. Everything is fine. She smiled and said ok, and with that, I broke down and told her about my epic adventure with Grace and the Great Poo.