Sunday afternoon I got a bit of a break and ran out with Jaxon while the other two napped and Rich did some work from home. We went to the bank, then to my new favorite place — the Nutrition store, then Walgreens, and stopped by Quizno’s so I wouldn’t have to make lunch when I got home. I was sort of in a hurry because we had birthday party plans 2 hours from the time we left the house. I ordered our food and waited at the cash register for them to complete the order.
First of all, I should tell you that many breastfed babies don’t poop every day. In fact, Jaxon poops about 2-3 times per week and that’s it. Usually he poops twice on poop day and it’s a big ol’ nasty gross mustard yellow blow-out about the consistency of melted peanut butter. Even a Pampers diaper can’t always keep it in. Thankfully, it rarely stinks.
When we got to Quizno’s, I decided instead of dragging out the stroller or trying to carry him in his car seat, I’d just hold him. In and out at Quizno’s and no need to get all the gear out too. I figured we’d be there less than 5 minutes and we’d be done. So out of the car seat he went and into my arms and I was proud to carry my cute little baby boy into the restaurant. He is such a doll face!!
As the dude making the subs was rolling them up in paper, Jaxon farted. HUGE nasty gas. I giggled and asked him if he felt better. Dude behind the counter laughed. Two seconds later Jaxon looked at me funny, turned his face red, and smiled as he pushed. I knew what was about to happen and I loosened my grip on his butt because I know by now that the tighter you hold a baby who is about to poop the more likely the chance of that poop not staying inside the diaper.
What happened next will forever remain in my mind. Someday I may even laugh about it.
Explosion. It was so loud and so disgusting and so green apple splatter that I almost didn’t know what to do. And, it smelled bad. Great. Guy behind the counter either didn’t hear it or pretended not to. I started to walk away from the counter to air it out a bit like if he had just passed a stinky toot. I thought I’d go put him in the car while the dude who suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion finished his perfect rolling of my subs. “Hurry up!!”, I wanted to scream at him. “Don’t you realize my baby just shat himself?”
Then. It. Happened.
That’s it. “I need to go put him in the car. I’ll be right back in to pick those up”, I said in a hurry.
“Oh Jaxon. Oh no baby. I forgot the damn diaper bag and you decided to shat right there in Quizno’s when we are exactly 10 minutes from being home. How in the world? Why in the world? I don’t have the patience for this right now, kid.” I held him up to put him in his carseat and that’s when I saw it.
Shat was running down his legs (both of them), was all over the front of my shirt, dripped on the seat of my van, ran all over his toy rattle zebra thing, and I had nothing (NOTHING) to wipe it all up with. Ok, I had something. A napkin. That’s right… A, meaning ONE.
He reached down and grabbed his foot and then it was on his hand. I tried to wipe his hand and then the other hand grabbed the other foot and then it was on that hand. I stripped my shirt off (thankfully I had a tank top underneath) and just used it as a rag. It already had shat on it anyway. Might as well use the clean parts to wipe the baby.
At this point I didn’t care that hand sanitizer is recommended not to be used on babies. I squirted that stuff out by the pound and rubbed it all over him and all over me from shoulders to hands. I turned on the van, cranked up the AC, and ran back inside to just grab my subs quickly.
And. That’s. When. I. Saw. It.
You probably thought this story couldn’t get any worse, didn’t you? Oh, but you just wait. Right by the counter was a much larger than I would have expected smeared area of baby shat. It honestly looked like dijon mustard. On the edge of that smear were two little girls about 8 years old going, “what is that, it’s all over my shoe, I just stepped in it”. My heart sank.
“Don’t step there. Oh my gosh, girls. Please. Back up. That’s baby, uh…stuff, you know, from his diaper. I’m so sorry. Please don’t move. I’ll help you. Uh [to the dude behind the counter], could I have like a billion napkins please? My baby’s diaper didn’t hold his stuff and it’s all over the floor and I need to clean it up. Girls, please go in the bathroom and wipe your shoes off. Don’t touch the bag of chips that fell [I picked up the bag and put it in the trashcan]. I will buy you new shoes and a new bag of chips. Please just go and make sure you wash your hands too.”
Dude comes out with a mop. Thank God for a nice teenager who was very polite and very quick all of a sudden to clean up the mess. I offered and he smiled and said, “no problem, miss…I can get it.”
The girls’ grandma came in from outside and I tried to explain to her what happened. She laughed and said, “how old is your baby?” I said, “4 months”. She laughed again and assured me everything was fine and went to check on her granddaughters in the bathroom.
I offered to buy them new shoes and pay for the bag of chips. She would have none of that. Finally, I had to excuse myself because Jaxon was sitting in a loaded diaper.
I called Rich on my way home and asked him to be ready at the door. I had to swiftly get Jaxon to the tub and he had to bring all our stuff in from the car.
I cleaned Jaxon, myself, and his car seat. Even with all that drama and grossness we were only 20 minutes late to the party.
Someday I am sure I will laugh about this. Someday it will be funny.