Arizona Blow out

I swore I would never be a parent who walked around with barf on my shoulder, or remnants of cheerios in my hair or worse listen to children's music while cruising around in my car. Sadly all of the aforementioned items are currently a part of my day-to-day life. I certainly didn't think I would go more than a day without showering and more than anything I promised myself I wouldn't discuss labor pains or baby bowel movements. Again all of these topics are just a part of being a parent. It is something DINKS (double income no kids) cringe at when their parent friends get to talking over dinner. Let me get on with it...This particular episode took place when Phin was about 6 months old while on vacay in Arizona with my sister and father.

We had settled in to a pretty good routine and after a few days of enjoying the pool, sunshine and walks with Phin in the San Tan Valley we decided to take an evening road trip to one of our favorite malls. My sister and I are avid shoppers. I still am its just rather than perusing Neiman Marcus, Saks and Nordstroms for myself I ditch my sister in designer shoes and head to the children's section. Needless to say Phin has quite the wardrobe. What seemed like a perfectly easy jaunt turned disaster about 20 minutes from home and 15 minutes from the mall. We were en-route singing wheels on the bus of course when Aunty Britty and I heard a commotion in the back. My precious bub dressed in preppy plaid shorts, a collared striped Polo and adorable deck shoes was working hard on an afternoon turd. After a few rumbles followed by a putrid odor we decided to pull into a golf course parking lot and change him before reaching the mall. I would have preferred to wait until we reached appropriate facilities but we were resourceful and the trunk of my dads BMW would work perfectly as a change table. I grabbed Phin and my sister grabbed the diaper bag. I began unfastening Phin from his car seat and could tell it was a bad one. I pulled him carefully from the back seat and suddenly felt a sloppy mess drip down my leg. Just like that I had fallen victim to a blow out resulting in a flood of Phin's turds running down my thigh, then my knee and eventually my shin and loafer. My sister nearly fainted and squawked in horror. There was no turning back we had to push through and deal with the stinky mess. So we did what anyone would do we cautiously began stripping Phin while encouraging each other with every passing second. I was holding Phin in the air under his armpits while Brit carefully removed his soiled clothing as if handling toxic waste. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse she reached in to the diaper bag and finds not only did I forget a second outfit, I had removed the baby wipes earlier that day and they were conveniently sitting on the kitchen table back home. Perfect! In short of crying we gasped with despair and scrambled to find a towel or napkins in my dads car. We found half a bottle of luke warm water and luckily I had 3 extra diapers packed. We wet the diapers and began the scrub down of my leg and then Phin who was now covered head to toe in shizen. From across the parking lot a golfer overheard our commotion, saw a baby squirming in the trunk and two frantic women so naturally he came to our aid. Like a saint he offered us his golf towel and another bottle of water and after a short introduction we learned he had three little girls and was all to familiar with the infamous blow outs.
We cleaned up Phin washed off my leg tossed the soiled clothes and got back on the road. We discussed a game plan as Phin was naked in the back and I was out of diapers and of course wipes. We pulled into the nearest Walgreens and I ran in to stock up on supplies. I grabbed diapers, wipes and saw a rack of clothing...There were three shirts in the kids aisle and only one that was roughly Phin's size and not pink. It was a white tank top not ideal but I was desperate. The sales associate begins ringing in my items and stops at the tank top to comment on how cute it was. I was rather confused thinking its just a tank top how cute can it be, she continued by saying how hilarious it was. I grabbed the top turned it around and couldn't believe my eyes. It read "lock up your daughters" with handcuffs in the middle. Beyond embarrassment I grabbed my items, ran to the car and showed the top to my sister. Together we cried with laughter at the entire situation and the series of events which had just unfolded.  After calming down we continued to the mall walked in to Saks with our bundle of joy wearing a diaper and wife beater that said "Lock up your daughters". It's days like these that you really wonder how your going to survive parenthood and yet never in your life have you ever laughed so hard.