Go ahead, change my nappy!

My week has been shit. Literally. 

It all started on Monday morning when E decided to crawl away mid nappy change. Waving his a adorable tooshie in my face, he darted off to explore the land of the open fridge. I let him go because I like to give him time without a nappy on so he can 'get some air'.

The fridge and it's wide open door is a new frontier for E and he often loves spending time sitting in front of it, pulling everything out and generally chillin'. Anyway, on the way to the fridge he stopped mid-crawl to study the carpet. Only I assumed he was studying the carpet because he often picks up the previous days left overs that he finds squashed in the floor. 

Not that morning. His studying face was actually one of concentration. A strong, serious, hard thought was running through his mind and (unfortunately) out of his bum! In a matter of seconds my inquisitive boy was covered in poo. 

The penny didn't drop (I might have been momentarily distracted by morning show hosts crossing to the Oscars on TV) until I saw a dirty little hand make its way to an open mouth and an intrigued tongue. 

'NO!' I yelled and shocked E into dropping his hand instantly. My poor little man got such a fright from my over reaction he started to cry. So I did what (I assume) most Mums would do in that instant - picked him up and put him in the kitchen sink for an emergency bath and avoid all unnecessary contact with the child at the same time. 

'Oooh, this is fun,' I consoled. 'La la la la. We're playing in the sink. La la la la'.  My improv song skills leave a lot to be desired at the best of times but I couldn't concentrate on writing a smash hit that very second because not only was there poo all over E, there was poo on the carpet and all over my clean sink. 

'La la la la...I think I might vomit,' I sang to no-one as I cleaned last night's dinner off E's arms, legs, feet, chin and fingers... at least I think that's what it was.

After a few minutes I got over myself, cleaned the rest of the mess up with very hot water, disinfectant and elbow grease, then lit one of my favourite vanilla scented candles to mask the smell. Done.

The next morning, mother's intuition warned me to prepare for another shitty battle. I sat E down with his favourite toy trains, several building blocks and ABC 4 Kids on tele to distract him from our impending encounter.

'Ok, Cowboy. Draw.' I whipped off E's nappy faster than he could say 'Brrrrrrrroom'. With wet wipes in one hand and a clean nappy in the other, E's cute butt was changed in less than 5 seconds.

'Boom! Now that's a nappy change. Off ya go,' I said letting E roll away after Thomas the Tank Engine. I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. 

In what felt like no more than 15 seconds later I looked over the benchtop to see E standing up straight, holding onto the TV cabinet, naked. His little bum was free and his nappy was still lying where I had changed him. In my haste to change his nappy in record speed and safe myself from another morning of you know what, I didn't fasten the tabs on the disposalable nappy very well and it came off during E's tumble turn.

Yep, you know what's coming!!

'What are you playing with Bub?' I asked him as he bent over, swirled his hand over the carpet and started patting the nearby lamp stand. 

'E! Not again. Teach. Help!' I called out to Teach who was getting out of the shower as I launched like a missile straight towards our weapon of mass destruction (or should that be weapon of mass poo-dumption?).

This time, E thought it was hilarious and laughed all the way to the sink where he continued to splash around and squelch his smelly poo between his fingers. 

'I can't deal with this two days in a row,' I said to Teach with my t-shirt covering my mouth in a sorry attempt to stifle the smell. 'Your turn.'

I disappeared upstairs to the calming oasis of our bathroom and let Teach clean up the mess (nice, aren't I?) and only emerged once I knew the carnage was clear.

After those two acts of bottom warfare I can safely say I'll never challenge my tot's bum to a change-off again unless armed with a super-soaker and uber-powerful nappies that require a sledge hammer to remove.

E 2. Mum 0. Game Over.