Mother of the Year

I took My Boy to the library on Monday. I'd intended just a quick visit--grab some books and go. Because of this, I didn't bother to grab my diaper bag. We made our selections and headed back to the car. I aksed My Boy to get into his car seat and he said, "I can't sit. I have poop." I tried explaining to him that I didn't have the diaper bag, hence no wipes or diapers, so we'd just have to wait till we got home. He absolutely refused to sit with his diaper in that condition. So I mentally ran down the list of possibilities...none of which were pretty. And of course, I didn't have so much as an old napkin to use in my favor, since Daddy had so lovingly cleaned out my car over the weekend.

So I ended up wiping his little tush with some scratchy newspaper (thank heavens I picked it up off the drive earlier that morning) and some spray hand sanitizer previously mentioned on this blog. After he was sufficiently cleaned up, My Boy thought it was funny that he had to go commando on the ride home. After we got home and resolved the problem, I vowed I would never leave the house without wipes or diapers. Ever.

Unfortunately, I grabbed a different diaper bag yesterday and we had a very similar repeat of Monday's events. At least this diaper bag had diapers in it. And I happened to have some napkins and an old bottle of water handy, so the situation wasn't quite as grim as the previous day. Seriously, though...My Boy is a very private pooper. He rarely relieves himself away from home. What are the chances that two days in a row he takes care of business when I'm so ill-prepared? And really, what kind of a mom leaves the house totally unprepared for a messy disaster?

Needless to say, I'm now taking nominations for Mother of the Year.