Dear Target,
I highly recommend that you take out the trash on Aisle 4. The stench eminating from that area may or may not have to do with a fully loaded diaper that I placed amidst candy wrappers and sample napkins in the trash bin, which probably hasn't been emptied in a year.
While I cannot confirm or deny any rumors that I actually changed Miss Dub in the aisle, I will say that ethnic foods are her favorite so she was quite content underneath a beautiful array of glass noodles. And if I did it, I obviously used a changing pad, though a quick mopping of the floor would be best.
Often the best lessons are taught to us by children. And as they say, "When you gotta go, you gotta go." And when you gotta change a diaper, you gotta change a diaper. Like, before a bad situation gets all over the cart.
But, seriously, you should take out that trash. I'm there at least three times a week, and I don't want a nasal reminder of the whole experience.
By the way, thanks for the $8 pair of black pants. I'm quite thrilled to be wearing a single-digit size after all these years.
Your adoring fan always,
Mrs. Dub
P.S. You should read my comments and hear some of the diaper-changing horror stories my friends and family have personally experienced. You know, once they share them!
10 comments:
Way to go on the single-digit size, Mrs. Dub!!
As far as diaper stories, I definitely have a few. I remember a horrible experience when my second daughter was only about a month old. I was changing her in the middle of the night on my bed. I wasn't prepared for a mess because it was 3am and I couldn't even think straight. I took off the old diaper, lifted her little legs into the air, and WOOOSH...I opened the baby poop flood gate. It SHOT out of her...all over me, my bedding, my nightstand, everywhere. I was so sleep deprived and disgusted that I just broke down in tears.
Oh, one more quick one. I did have an awful experience of a full-on poop EXPLOSION of my then 8-month old daughter on a 2-hour airplane ride. She had already gotten her extra onesie dirty, so I had NO back up clothes. And this stinky stuff was everywhere on her and some on a certain Southwest seat. The story ends with me taking about 10 minutes in the HUGE airplane bathroom to clean her up. She wore just a diaper and a bib the rest of the flight. That's exactly what I wanted her to be wearing when her grandparents picked us up at the airport!
Uh, although I don't have any kids, I do remember being particularly embarassed one summer afternoon while touring a model home when little YOU had an unfortunate accident and Mom had to change you somewhere crazy because those model home bathrooms aren't functional. Only you weren't a baby, you were like three. And you were already wearing underwear. I think the craziness involved Mom throwing out your underwear and you going commando under your shorts for the next few hours. But I'll let her tell it.
Well, mine isn't a diaper story. It involves picking apples at an orchard sans bathrooms and a potty-training boy with diarrhea. What were we thinking? I've got great pictures from that day though. My life always looks prettier and more fun in my photo albums AFTER the fact.
P.S. The manager at Target has started personally greeting me, is this a bad thing?
I did all of my errands (all after the first one) with Kalle's stinky diaper on the back bumper of the Tahoe yesterday, in hopes that it would fall off ... but no it was still there and I put it in the trash when we got in the garage.
My sister even called me on my cell phone to tell me how silly I looked driving around with a diaper on the bumper.
But seriously it's the best place for it. Doesn't fall off, and keeps your call smelling lots better!
Hey leisha...are you sure that's the manager and are you sure you're not at Wal-Mart? Fans of this blog consider it a badge of honor to be on a personal salutation basis with the local Target manager...knowing the greeter at Wal-Mart--not so much.
No personal diaper stories--too old to remember my kids' ones, too young to have my own...but the shared experiences ring oh so familiar...sweet babies...stinky diapers...a study in contrasts.
LOL...no,no not the personal greeter at Wal-Mart.
We were wandering the aisles of Target last week and one of the managers walked by and said "Wow, you guys are here ALL the time!" and struck up a conversation with us (maybe to find out why I had nothing better to do than wander Target with 3 children at least twice a week.)
You would think it would embarass me (it's a large and busy Target), but no, I just wave back when the manager now recognizes us and yells out "How y'all doin' today?"
it's OK, leisha.
we're such frequent visitors to our local super target that the produce guy, ram, has informed everyone that miss dub can have a free banana during each visit.
and one of the cashiers knows me by name.
Ginny . . . you were reading my mind, because the minute I read this particular post, the horrors of that model-home-visitation came back to me loud and clear. Yes, it was the indubiable Mrs. Dub who, in training pants (of the cloth variety that could only be pulled down to be pulled off, smearing the legs of the trainee everytime -- at home home OR at the model home.) To add detail to this already disgusting story, Mrs. Dub was fine until she SAW the non-functioning commodes and then there was no turning back the power of suggestion. The offending pants were left in a bush outside and I am pretty sure she squealed with delight to be given a green light to go commando. No word on whether or not it became a habit.
I'm new here, but I have a story:
When my olderst daughter (now almost 8) was just six months old, my husband had to pick her up from daycare due to her being ill. Our offices were located within walking distance of each other and as it was nearing the end of the day, he decided to keep Hannah at his office until I got off from work. A short while later, I got a phonecall from my frantic husband saying that our daughter had a major blowout and that there were zero wipes in the diaper bag. He was too embarrassed to ask one of his female co-workers for help, so I had to leave work early to help him out. Needless to say, I was greeted by a half-naked baby and one smelly office! I had to use wet paper towels - her poor hiney!
You'd think that after almost 9 years (strait) of changing diapers I would have a story to add, but I think my subconscious has filtered those memories to a far-away and seldom explored area of my brain.
Thanks for the laugh though!
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