I carried a watermelon...

I didn't carry a watermelon, but I figured it was better then my original title. 

This last weekend I was at my brother's house.  It was super early in the morning and my son clearly had a diaper in need of changing.  After Heather's gentle nudge telling me it was MY turn to change the diaper, I sluggishly got out of bed to fulfil my fatherly duty. 

So I placed him on the ground because we obviously didn't bring our changing table.  What I SHOULD have done is put down one of those portable plastic changing stations.  I didn't.  So after the first wet-wipe, my morning took a HUGE turn for the worse.

While I was wiping his little booty, he pooted.  I'm OK with that, kinda was just like "aww man, you pooted right at me."  But then I could tell... he had that stressed "oh I'm SO about to poop" look.  PLEASE, SON, PLEASE NOOOO!

It was too late.  It was coming.  He was about to drop a bomb on the carpet of my brother's guest bedroom.  What was I to do???    I reacted.  And CAUGHT IT before it hit the carpet.  That's right.  in my hand.  Then in the still darkness, crap...in...my...hand.  Heather only leaned up to say "Paul, watch your language."

THEN, since his diaper was being changed in that cool room where the air could get to his man parts, he began to pee.  AS IF this couldn't be worse.  So What do I do?  React.  And catch it in the hand which now holds poo.  NOW I have this hand full of newly liquified poop.  It was bad enough to where I could POUR into the diaper on the ground next to him.  He, being empty, is now asleep again leaving me with this to contemplate alone.

The only thing I could think is "This is now my life. For-ev-er."

So as you see, "I carried a watermelon" is a better then the title "I had poop...in my hands."