Fatherhood

Last Sunday I had an experience with Zane that cemented the reality that I am, indeed, a father. After visiting the doctor for a routine weight check we stopped by the store. Dianna went into the store, and I got to sit in the car and play with Zane, who grimaced and loaded up his diaper.

Retrospectively, I'm not sure exactly why I decided to do what I did. An extra 15 minutes with a load in his pants probably doesn't amount to much, since he can't tell time anyways. But, I guess I had to learn somehow.

Ok, where to change the diaper? On the trunk? Bad idea jeans. He could fall off. The hood? No, he could roll off. How about the driver's seat? Yeah. What's the worst that could happen?

I unfolded the changing mat, laid it down on the seat, undressed him and went to work. Having never changed a diaper before two weeks ago, I think I have become pretty efficient. It only takes me about 10 seconds.

There were about 5 or 6 wipes in the changing bag - plenty for a routine diaper change. I get his diaper off and start cleaning his butt, and he gazes up into my eyes as if to say, "foolish man. I was born to do this", and proceeds to literally hose down the changing mat, the seat, me, him, the e-brake handle - everything within a 5 foot blast radius of his butt. He was like an inverted Linda Blair.

Now, I'm pretty sure that this event broke the first law of thermodynamics, which paraphrased, states that you can't create shit from nothing. There is absolutely no way that this kid consumed enough breast milk and formula to produce the volume of crap that he did.

With literally everything covered in yellow shit, I have lost it. I am laughing my head off. Positively howling. Zane, on the other hand, wasn't happy about being covered in crap. To voice his ire, with nothing to obstruct his firing line, he unleashes about twice as much crap, soiling the few remaining surfaces that were still clean after his first explosion.

All I could think was, "there aren't enough wipes in the universe to handle this. We're going to have to burn this car."

Fast forward 10 minutes. I am in the driver's seat, and Zane is in his car seat. Dianna opens up the trunk to the car, and sees what she initially identifies as an old green rag. Then it clicks that this is the tiffany-blue changing pad that fits in her fancy diaper bag. All I hear is, "oh my god."

Snickering, she gets into the back seat. "So, how's it going?"

Silence. hold up a ziploc bag popping at the seams with diapers and yellow wipes.

I am officially a dad.