Take a Chance on Me

Somehow I shimmied here in my crib...

... and got stuck!

I’m not a betting baby, but if I were I would’ve bet against mommy.


We were on our way out to an appointment and, because of a complete exhaustion induced mix up, abba took the car because mommy said she’d take the bus rather than drive him to work. Confused? So were we. But anyway, it simply meant that I was in the baby back pack and I was headed out in ominous weather to take my very first bus ride. What a deprived life I’d lived until now - planes and cars, but no buses? Video to follow.


In light of all this, mommy packed a “light” bag. We’d only be gone for 1.5 hours, tops. So she organized and eliminated. As she took out the change of clothes she said aloud, directing her query at me, "We won’t need these, right? What are the odds?" I just smirked. 


On Saturday night, I took a mega dump that slid evasively out of my diaper. What are the chances that would happen twice in one week? We would only be gone for an hour and some. What are the chances we’d need a clothing change? I ate potatoes the previous day, not something high in fiber. What are the chances I’d be clearing out my intestines in the next 90 minutes?


Apparently VERY GOOD. And mommy bet very wrong. 


Parallel to the weather, which was a deluge of rain, my own personal floodgates opened up just as we arrived at our appointment. And they flooded my diaper, pants, socks and onesies. And I had nothing in which to change. Remember that part?


The odds were with mommy, on paper. But the truth is, with a baby, all bets are off. 


After a lengthy clean-up session on the changing table in the bathroom, mommy returned me to the therapy room where I began my “play time.” Mommy, on the other hand, spent the next 10 minutes in the bathroom removing the shrapnel off my clothing. 


Then for the next problem - no dry and clean clothes to into which to change. Luckily, the bus trip caused mommy to dress me in a fluffy, one-piece outerwear “Yeti” outfit. So I was naked as a jay bird underneath the outerwear, save for a diaper and undershirt. I made it home without further incident.


Moral of the story: Never sacrifice any of my baby essentials, even though I rarely need them, to save on weight. The moment you do that, you WILL need them.


It’s not Murphy’s Law. It’s the Infamous Law of Babies. 

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