An Evening at the Improv

Parenting can sure keep you on your toes. We thought we were long past the days of poop squirting in every which direction. Don’t ask me why. Arrogance perhaps? Complacency maybe? Regardless of the reason, an error was made…the diaper bag had long ago shed its spare outfit to make way for animal crackers, gold fish and any toy that stands a chance of capturing 2 minutes of toddler attention.

One Friday evening, we found ourselves dining with Jonie and Chris at The Palm (no, not the swanky steak house, we’re talking about Las Palmas, home of fine Mexican cuisine). It was a lovely evening, good food, good company, good margaritas. Then, it happened. It started off innocently enough, a couple stomach gurgles, a few baby grunts, a couple more baby grunts, (a few mature adult chuckles), then, the big squirt. Yes, that squirt. The audible anal squirt is one of life’s most ominous sounds. The squirt is capable of accelerating poop well beyond diaper escape velocity. Yes my friends, we broke containment, and not just a little; this was no shart. Somehow the angle and velocity combined to push the poop up the path of MOST resistance. None came up the back, instead it all came shooting out from the hips. How this is possible, I will never know, but I’m sure our little wonder isn’t the first to achieve such greatness.

So, pop quiz. You’re sitting in a restaurant with friends. You child is covered in crap. You’re not equipped to clean you child. What do you do?

a) Order another margarita
b) Proceed to the car and ignore the crap transferred to you and to your car
c) Strip the baby down and wash it in the nasty bathroom sink and hope the “no shirt, no shoes” policy has an age minimum
d) Wrap it in a plastic bag, finish your dinner and head home

We chose D. In case you’re wondering, a standard plastic grocery bag runs a tad larger than an 18M onsie.

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