91 Year Old Crazies

And no, I am not talking about Aunt Pat. She is 90.

Today we went shopping with Auntie Bobo. It was a great time. A fabric store with lots of colors to overwhelm and excite the little man. I carried him most of the time, as you can imagine fabric stores are not too stroller friendly. We went to help Bobo pick out some fabric for her new home, but of course I ended up with over $100 worth of fabric myself... But that is a story for another blog of a different name.

Anywho, upon leaving the fabric store I noticed a distinct stench. Before I could announce my curiosity about said stench, Bobo confirmed it. Uh, oh. The little munchkin had been holding his #2 for at least a day (a new excitement ever since we started him on cereal), so I knew it was going to be bad. Especially since my star pooper formerly went about 4 times a day. Sorry for the graphics, but they add the to story, trust me.

Also, sidebar. He was wearing his blowout pants. Every time I put him in the damn dinosaur jeans he blows out and it is a mess. Those pants can walk on their own they have so much stain remover on them. I should have known better.

Oh, and I forgot to mention too - fabric store - in Lynn. Not the most exciting, or comforting city in the world. Really, I thought - this is not the "city of sin" people say it is. Until what happens next.

I decide the fabric store would not have a suitable venue for poop changing, and I need to drop stuff off at my car anyway. Bobo confirms what I wanted to do anyway - a quick diapey change in the trunk of the car will be fine. So what if it is 50 degrees out, it will toughen the guy I think. But in all seriousness, I really didn't think that would be too bad. Max 1 minute without clothes, and the guy was roasting in his car seat and in the hotter than africa fabric store anyway, he could use a cool down.

So, I proceed to do the deed. And immediately notice my 1 minute maximum was going to be more like 10 with a stark naked baby. Blow out city. And, while changing him I do the unthinkable and put the clean onesie on before dirty diaper is changed, but I figure it is cold - he needs something on. Of course, the little dude pees all over the only clean onesie I have left and his sweatshirt all while kicking the poop all over me, my fancy diaper bag, and his last clean binky. Nice. At least the bugger is laughing through it.

Next stop, the crazy 91 year old. This psycho woman comes rushing over (as fast as she can rush, if you can imagine) with her walker, screaming "bad mother!" or something to the effect. And proceeded to tell me he was cold. Yes, thank you lady, I get it. And continued to tell me these things until I cursed at her to get away. Bobo tried a nicer statement "don't you need to go shopping?" But I cursed. Something clicked in this lady and after I cursed she decided to start calling me a good mother, but not until after she first asked if I was the grandmother. WHAT?

I like to think that if Aunt Pat was there, she would have surely kicked this woman's ass. We finally got him all suited up. So what if there was a little pee. I pretty much got 95% of remnants of poop off, which I decided was good enough at the time. Good thing I brought an extra coat for the guy! And off to lunch we went. The little pooper was so happy with himself that he chugged a bunch of formula and proceeded to sleep through lunch, and the ride home.

The moral of the story is, do not change diapers on the streets of Lynn. No matter what the temperature. I will now always look at these fabulous seat cushions and throw pillows and think of poop.