Sunday after church we headed to a nearby restaurant to grab lunch with our good friends. As we arrived and found street parking, I sent Doug and the baby and Mercy to go in and grab us a table while I changed Aaron’s drinking-fountain-soaked shirt in the back of the van. I had barely finished unbuttoning Aaron when I heard some dreadful hacking and gagging and looked up to see Doug rapidly approaching the van holding Elijah at arm’s length.
I got Aaron’s shirt changed and sent him with Doug and Mercy instead and arranged the stinky baby on the folded seat in the back of the van. As I started to take off his clothes, I quickly realized that the job was going to be a bit more, how shall I say, comprehensive than was at first apparent. Half a pouch of wipes and a naked (and finally clean) baby cavorting in the back seat later, I was sufficiently grossed out and exhausted from the delicate wrangling a change-job like that requires in the less than ideal environment of the back seat of a Toyota Sienna.
I do have to say that my little Elijah was quite endearing throughout the whole mess. He kept looking up at me with big eyes and saying “uh oh…”
Yes, Elijah, that was an understatement.
Oh, and I was totally amused because there were no trash cans anywhere on the street and the only thing I could find in the van to stash the poop mess in was a large envelope filled with cheesy church marketing stuff that had been sent to our pastor at our home address. I emptied the envelope of its shiny brochures and sealed up my mess and laughed a bit at the object lesson.