A River Runs Through It (It Being My Sweatshirt)

As a new father, I knew I'd be peed on.  I just never imagined I'd be peed on with so much vigor.  Not once, not twice, but three times today, my darling 5 week old baby Grace decided to use her daddy as a diaper in spectacular fashion.

I don't know a whole lot about Grace's likes and dislikes just yet, but if there's one thing that I'm certain of it's that she hates - Capital H Hates - being changed.  With her, cold and wet are two painting the black strikes against you, and if she's hungry while you're changing her, that's a screaming, crying 12-to-6 hammer for strike three.

So, armed with that knowledge, I should've known better than to take her from the changing table to her bathtub sans diaper, wrapped only in a blanket and cradled tight in my arms.  "It'd only be 15 seconds," I thought to myself, "before she'd be in the tub.  Surely she wouldn't pick those 15 seconds to pee ."  But, alas, surely she did.

A torrent of tinkle raged from her bottom, soaking her blanket, my sweatshirt, my sock and the floor.  A sly little smile curled up at the corners of Grace's mouth.  A delighted cackle came from my wife, who witnessed the flooding with unrestrained glee.

One bath, one nap and one sock and sweatshirt change later, Baby Grace was up again, ready for lunch.  I fed her and, as is her custom, she pooped mid-bottle.  Putting the trauma of the morning behind me, I steeled my nerves and took her back to the changing table, opening her diaper to what could best be described as a crime scene.  Not 5 seconds into cleaning her up, Old Faithful erupted again, creating something of a *GROSS ALERT* poop mudslide */GROSS ALERT* spilling out of her diaper and funneling down her back.  It was way worse than the first round, but at least I didn't require another costume change this time.  Her outfit, though, needed to be burned and never spoken of again.

That had to be enough pee incidents for one day, right?  Wrong.  The very next diaper change, Grace was at it again, only this time I was ready.  I opened her diaper and waited her out, absolutely positive of what was going to come.  Sure enough, water works, only this time I caught it all in the dirty diaper, successfully saving an outfit and, for the moment, my sanity.

Still though, it's enough to give a guy a complex.