It's better to be P'd off than peed on

Dateline: Thursday night/Friday morning, the Duebber living room

Another first. To call him 'Old Faithful' would be cliche, but I don't know the names of any lesser renowned geysers, nor do I care to google at this time, so 'The Faithful One' he shall be dubbed.

In a recent post, I mentioned that he only gets fussy when (1) he's hungry or (2) he's dirty. I will amend that statement, to include (3) he's about to be dirty. He hadn't dirtied a diaper in 4 hours. He was starting to get fussy. We didn't smell anything.

It was one of those "Do you think he already has? Or do you think it's coming soon?" moment. If you've never experienced this, it's horrifying... There's really no winner here. Either (a) he's dirty and you have to clean it up, (b) he's not dirty and you just took of his clothes and diaper to find nothing, which is strangely unsatisfying because you'll just have to do it all again in 10 minutes, or (c) he's not dirty when you take the diaper off, but there's that risk he'll go while you're unprotected by the wonders of Pampers. See what I'm saying? None of these choices work for me.

Maybe I was getting cocky, but I was actually starting to think that I was invincible, that he’ll never get me. So, with confidence, I began to change a nice nasty #2, and an amazing #1 fountain sprang up out of my son. Somehow, I was totally unprepared for this. The goal, when this happens, is to suppress the geyser. I ran away. And all I can say after this is that Toby has good sustain. Seemed like the eternal spring at the time.

At this point, it was well after midnight (1:30am?), but there was much work to do. He peed on the couch, himself, my boot. Plus he needed a bath anyway, and especially now. Needless to say, Thursday night/Friday morning was another late and hilarious night/morning.

(We need to have a talk about that boot thing--You don't tug on Superman's cape, spit into the wind, pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger, and you don't pee on a man's boot.)

So now, a running list of all things that have been soiled by or peed on by The Kid:

• the heating table at the hospital
• Robyn's bed at the hospital (because I wasn't good at changing him yet...)
• every diaper he's ever worn
• our bedsheets
• his own clothing
• his own self
• the couch
• my boots
• the cat (ok, this didn't happen, but I wanted to see how it looked on the list, and it's bound to happen sometime...)
• Robyn (the morning after the first 'geyser' incident)
• his crib-sheets

Let's hope the church youth leaders aren't added to this list by this afternoon. Come on over, guys, he's grrrrrrrreat!