Poop Pants

There is a rule in our family that once the dinner conversation degrades down to poop (which it always does, for some reason), the meal is over. Usually the timing works out well and we're all finished eating by then, but these days I could stop every meal before we start.

Monday afternoon I had a doctor's appointment and I took Ben along. We ended up having a ridiculously long wait time. At first Ben was asleep in his stroller. Then he woke up and happily had a staring contest with the toy bug hanging from the car seat handle. But after a while he got antsy, so I took him out and sat him on my lap. Finally, after everyone else in the room was gone, they called my name. I picked Ben up and had a horrible realization. One of those moments where time goes into slow motion. Not only had he pooped, but it had leaked out of his diaper onto his pants and onto my pants. Luckily I was wearing dark jeans, but the stain was such that it looked like I had wet myself.

I quickly stuffed Ben into the stroller and covered up the stain with my coat. Once in the examining room the nurse was distracted by Ben's charming smile, so I was able to position my t-shirt so it wasn't obvious. One weight and blood pressure check later she left and I went into Super Mom mode. Wipes! New diaper! Thank goodness I brought a change of clothes for him! He just laid on the examining table grinning up at the fluorescent light fixture. I managed to clean him up and change his clothes before the doctor came in. But the worst part was having to put my poop pants back on to drive home. Oh, those intangible joys of motherhood.