Last Night

It was a calm and serene evening. Both boys were bathed, in their jammies, and surprisingly subdued. Toby was watching a little "Boz" and Charlie's eyes were drooping as he sucked down that last little bit of bottle before I layed him down for the night. Only thing left to do was change his diaper one more time to give him a fresh beginning to a hopefully long sleep.
Like any great mother would, I decided it too cumbersome to take him to the changing table and opted instead for the quick exchange on the ottomon. I barely let go of the bottle as I peeled back the velcro tabs on the old diaper and slid it off like a pro, eyeing the new diaper opened and ready next to us. In an unfortunate series of events it all came crashing sadly down. I laid the old diaper down, then screamed in horror as I discovered that, despite the large poo of an hour before, my son had stealthily filled his size three Huggie yet again. Barely any of the stuff traveled away with the diaper, but instead layed like a lump on his tummy and nestled between the creases of his thighs. I was completly unprepared ... where are the wipes? ...a changing pad? For the love of God someone hand me a kleenex or something. His legs flailed about, happily unaware of the danger, smearing doo doo on his socks and my shirt. Toby jumped off of the couch, a toy train in each hand, to see what peril had befallen me. "Mommy what happen'?" He asked helpfully as he began crawling up to us to gawk at his brother's handiwork. He had no sooner planted his first hand beside me when he began a whail of his own. "Mommy (sob) there is poop on Diesel Ten!" He held up his chubby little fist, dirty fingers grasping protectively around a yellow engine dipped in a brownish green mess of you-know-what. "Its Ok", I lied, "Let mommy take care of baby Charlie and then we can go wash Diesel Ten together." He obliged, but not before he instinctively gave Diesel Ten a quick wipe down across the chest of his blue pajamas. Of course. "Nobody Move!" I bellowed as I clung to Charlie's feet to prevent any further spread and wrapped him, poo and all, in a bath towel Greg tossed to me (from a safe distance). "Everyone to the bathroom!" I commanded. And that is how the Hawkins family along with Diesel Ten, ended our once beautiful evening, back where it began, in the bathtub, thirty minutes after bedtime, much stinkier, slightly grouchier, all except for baby Charlie who was feeling understandably delightful.