two thousand twenty
Subscribe to Wayne County Life RSS post feed
Subscribe to Wayne County Life RSS comment feed
Subscribe to Wayne County Life by email
Wayne County Life on Facebook

By John Addyman

   My son Mike is 30.
   And my youngest grandson, Jeremy, is 2.
   Keep those facts in mind.
   Last week, Jeremy’s mommy and daddy were both working and they needed a babysitter. They asked Mike if he’d come over and watch Jeremy and his big sister, Lucie, who is 5.
   Mike agreed.
   He arrived, gave the kids a snack, and was busy playing with Lucie on the floor of the playroom when Jeremy presented himself to his Uncle Mike.
   “Poopy,” Jeremy said. 

   Mike thought Jeremy was making a comment on the rainy day at hand.
   “Yes, it is kind of poopy outside,” said Uncle Mike. “Too bad we can’t go out and play.”
   Jeremy looked at Uncle Mike, measuring him and the situation.
   “Poopy,” he repeated. Firmly.
   “What?” asked Mike.
   “He means that he has a poopy diaper and needs to be changed,” suggested Lucie, who is always helpful.
   “Who’s going to change him?” Mike asked.
   Lucie looked at him.
   Jeremy got down on the floor, assuming the diaper-changing position.
   Mike reached for his phone.
   “We have a situation,” he said as soon as his sister, Libby, answered the phone.
   Libby has a 4-year-old son, Jaden.
   “What’s the situation?” Libby asked.
   “Jeremy says he’s poopy,” Mike said.
   “So change him,” Elisabeth said.
   Then it came out: in his 30 years on earth, Mike had managed to escape diaper-changing, even though he has two nephews and a niece.
   “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed to Libby.
   “Put your phone on speaker,” she told him. “I’ll walk you through it.”
   Mike started the process by making his first, almost catastrophic mistake.
   He tried to pull the diaper off.
   There was good reason: he had seen Jaden’s pull-up diapers and thought all diapers were like that.
   “You have to undo the tabs,” said Libby from the little speaker on the phone, which was now resting on the floor. Lucie knelt nearby, ready to give advice, but obviously finding great interest in the unfolding drama.
   Silence for 15 seconds.
   “What’s a ‘tab’?” Mike finally asked.
   Libby explained. Mike undid the front of the diaper and opened it up and Jeremy dutifully lifted his legs to accommodate Uncle Mike’s need for some work space.
   “Yike!” Libby heard Mike say. Jeremy had unloaded last night’s dinner, dessert and some of breakfast into this particular diaper.
   Lucie helped Mike find the wipes, and Jeremy was clean as a whistle in a couple of minutes.
   “What do I do with the old diaper?” Mike asked.
   “Take it out and put in the garage,” Libby said, “but not until you get another diaper on Jeremy. Make sure you fold the old diaper up.”
   A few minutes of instruction followed while Mike learned how to wrap up a poopy diaper for disposal without adding to the hazardous waste collateral damage.
   “Where are the diapers?” Mike asked. Libby told him to walk up the stairs, into Jeremy’s bedroom, into the closet, and feel around in the diaper bag for the right diapers – the daytime diapers.
   As she was talking Mike through this, Libby had a sudden flash of what might be going on in the house.
   “Where’s Jeremy?” she asked.
   “He’s under my arm,” said Mike. “I’m walking up the stairs.”
   “Where’s Lucie?” Libby asked.
   “She’s at the top of the stairs pointing to where the diapers are,” Mike answered.
   Mike found the diapers, set Jeremy on the floor and started to get ready to put the new diaper on.
   “Are you holding something in front of Jeremy, between the two of you?” asked Libby.
   “No, why?”
   “Because Jeremy is a little boy, and little boys squirt…with their little hoses,” Libby said. (I understand Libby had to turn away from her phone at the this point because she was laughing so hard bubbles were coming out of her nose.)
   Meanwhile, Mike was getting a second diaper to use as a shield. A Marine who spent some time in Iraq, he knew all about shields. This was familiar turf.
   Jeremy was on the floor, looking up at Uncle Mike, waiting for a new diaper. He is one of the most pleasant kids alive. He came out his mom’s tummy smiling and hasn’t stopped.
   Mike was looking at the diaper.
   “It’s torn or something,” he told Libby.
   THOSE are the tabs,” she explained. “You have to make sure those stick on the front of the diaper when you put it on him.
   Libby listened quietly while things were going on in Jeremy’s bedroom. She heard noises like a little boy being moved around on the carpet.
   And then…
   “What’s that?” Libby asked.
   “Jeremy,” Mike said. “He’s laughing at me. I got the diaper on wrong. I’m locking and loading again.”
   “Are you keeping another diaper in front of Jeremy?” she asked.
   “Yes I am.”
   More seconds passed. Libby heard another noise.
   “What’s that sound?” she asked.
   “Lucie is clapping,” Mike said. “I got the diaper on Jeremy.”
   “What’s Jeremy doing?” asked Libby.
   “You rascal!” Libby heard Mike say.
   “What?” Libby asked.
   “I think he just peed in the new diaper,” Mike said.
   “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!” said Jeremy. 


You can make a comment, or trackback from your own site.


  1. Anonymous Said,

    Alays a good read.


    Posted on Tue Apr 19, 08:51:00 AM EDT

  2. Seth C. Burgess Said,

    It's real life!

    Posted on Wed Apr 20, 01:06:00 PM EDT


Post a Comment

Most Viewed - Last 30 days

Going Green

Church Life