Return of the poo

What is the most challenging diaper I’ve ever changed? You might think it was the explosive one I changed in the back of the car at the library. Or the one my husband and I double-teamed on the floor of the airplane that didn’t have a changing table. Or maybe the one I changed today at our play date. I took off Zoey’s usual explosive diaper and upon seeing the hazmat situation my friend exclaimed “holy crap!” Well, let me tell you there was nothing holy about it, especially when her 18 month-old daughter curiously stuck her finger in it. 

Nope. The most challenging diaper I ever changed was this weekend when I was babysitting someone else’s baby. When the baby started screaming in the middle of the night, I opened the door to her room and immediately smelled the problem. I exited and quickly returned with my trusty gas mask. I surgically opened the diaper so as not to disrupt the contents, and proceeded to use an entire box of wipes. 

Just one spot left, so I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, but for the life of me that spot just wouldn’t come out. “Out out damn spot,” but alas a Brillo pad, 409 and a some Comet later, it was still there. A big, brown spot on this poor crying baby’s tush. But I wanted to be the perfect babysitter. I didn’t want her parents to open the diaper in the morning and find a turd stuck to her rear end. Finally I gave up. I had no choice. It was the most stubborn piece of poo I had ever come across. 

The next morning at breakfast, feeling the need to confess my sloppy diaper job, I explained the story to the baby’s mom, but as I was talking I noticed her face change to an embarrassed expression. 

“What is it?” I asked.

“I feel so bad,” she said. “I usually tell all of her babysitters but I totally forgot to tell you.”

“What are you talking about?” I could not imagine what she forgot to tell me. 

Guess what. That stubborn piece of poo wasn’t a piece of poo at all. It was a birthmark! Here I was trying to be the good babysitter by keeping the lights dim so she would fall back to sleep, and I ended up probably scarring her for life, on top of her always having to live with a doodie-like birthmark. 

I’d like to say no babies were harmed in the making of this blog, but I’m not so sure about that. I just hope I never have to change a diaper that challenging again. Well, at least until my husband and I are so old we have to change each other’s Depends. Hello, Dr. Kevorkian. 

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