But SATURDAY. Oh Saturday! That needs to be written down....
Poop on a stick. What a memory.
We had all gone out to dinner (at Whitner's BBQ) and had an excellent time. Fantastic food, well-behaved children, quick service....just an all-around positive experience. You NEED to go there. Seriously. Change your plans and go eat there. :)
Near the end of our meal, My Love got a look on his face and shot me a questioning look. Apparently, a horrible smell had just creeped into his nostrils and he was blaming me.
I was innocent.
Sniffing around the table and shifting accusations continued.
Boy Bean was the last one accused.
Unfortunately, he should have been the first.
My Love was sitting next to Boy Bean and pulled the little britches out to do a bum check.
(Insert coughing and fast retracting of limbs.)
The poor Boy had managed to poop....out his diaper...in his onesie.....down his pants....into his socks....and in his shoes.
Thankfully his fleece was spared.
I catapulted out my seat for recon on the bathroom, hoping to find a changing table.
My hope was not realized.
Did I mention it was about 38 degrees and raining?
And that I had to just used his spare outfit from the diaper bag....the day before?
And had not refilled it?
And that I was low on wipes?
So out I went to the Swagger Wagon in the tinkling rain (As the girl beans call it) to strip my Boy Bean and clean him up without getting our freshly-cleaned car dirty....with 10 wipes.
Miraculously, I succeeded.
Unfortunately for Boy Bean, we still had errands to run.
And he was naked.
Well, he had a diaper and a blanket, and once I returned to the restaurant his fleece was donned.
His lower half was bare.
That's right. We went full-redneck.
(Our errands were taking us straight to the mall....so we quickly purchased a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie for the little dude.)
A memory was made.
And nasal hairs were burned.
Overall? It was an excellent evening.