We have this little problem in our family. Everyone wants to go everywhere with everyone else. I moan but I really want to be with all of them too. Actually, I really want to be with my husband so I tolerate his clones.
So tonight we all headed out to pick up the combi double stroller we found on Craigslist and then off to the Apple store to rectify the problem that is my fat ass. I know it’s shocking that Apple can fix the size of your backside, but it’s true. No, actually they can fix the problems caused by your ass such as standing directly on your I-Phone as you get out of the truck. Not good, People. And because it already had 17 hairline fractures on the glass screen and I’m pretty much as irresponsible as they come, I offered to take my husband’s I-Phone that looks like it was purchased yesterday (even though today is its one year old birthday) and get him a new 3G I-Phone. He says that life is sometimes unfair in a good way in your direction but it so rarely is unfair in his good direction. It was the least I could do.
We were getting out of the truck and I finally just asked who smelled like ass. In a house full of men, they pretty much all do but every once in a while someone carries his ass smell around in his diaper and I try not to propagate that smell at all cost. Why should strangers be traumatized?
K: I think The Baby smells. Do you want to change him?
D: Eh. I’ll change him in the mall.
Fast forward to the Apple store, then the AT&T store and it was as if time stopped. No one took The Baby to change him. I think he still stank but no one was listening to me. Derek then started to complain that Nate’s diaper had leaked and asked if I could go buy him pants. I looked down and both Derek and The Baby were soaked. It was weird. He headed off to Cheesecake Factory where we were on the eternal list and I headed out to find sweat pants that did not cost 19.99. WTH? I’m sure people buy $20 sweat pants for their 2 year old but I am not one of those people. I found a pair of pajamas for $8.99 and The Boy and I headed out to find the other two. My new-used phone rang.
D: Nate’s not wearing a diaper.
D: Nate has no diaper on. That’s why the leak was so bad.
K: What do you mean?
D: Did you forget to put a diaper on him?
This is a valid question to ask a pregnant woman. Along with, “did you make sure you took ALL the kids before you left the house?” and “did you blow out all the open flames before you left the house?” Anything is fair game.
K: I remember putting a diaper on him. And he stank when we got out of the truck. Was there poop in his pants?
Maybe I should mention that Nate has been taking off his diapers after he “fills” them. Somehow his clothes remain on but you’ll find a crap diaper under the dining room table. It’s happened twice in the last three days.
K: Dear. God. Where do you think he took it off? OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG. Did you leave him alone anywhere?
D: Of course not.
K: Where is the damn diaper?
D: Um, Merry Christmas mall employees?
Because making minimum wage at a lousy job at the mall two days before Christmas isn’t bad enough, you now get to find a “filled” diaper under a rack somewhere at the end of the night. Nice. To the people at the mall, I am so very sorry. So. Very. Sorry.