You would think after 14 months of cloth diapering I would be prepared for whatever events might occur. Well life, (and my little poop machine), never cease to amaze me. This Labor Day weekend was busy for my family. I worked diligently on the store trying to get it back in shape after the JBF sale. My husband ran around after Max and tried to get the house presentable. On top of the normal weekend to-do list, a tree fell during the last storm at my mom’s house so my dear husband had to go take care of the limbs. It was busy to say the least. While everyone we knew was at the pool or lake enjoying the last days of summer, we were working. It was a fun weekend though. It is always good to be productive plus I got to meet a new cloth diapered baby!! Congrats Maggie and Travis.
Anyway, it was time for Max to get some new reading material. A trip to Barnes and Noble was in the works. For the last few months, a wet/dry bag with one diaper and some wipes has been my weekend diaper bag. I don’t know if it is teething, or what, but my boy has really started increasing his output lately. He is usually a pretty regular kid, but this past week something was up. Before we went into the store I changed his diaper. We planned on meeting grandpa later to help him pick out a new TV, so we were counting on this diaper to last at least an hour and a half. Not ten minutes into our book search, there were grunts…a red face…and then the inevitable poop. Oh no! I am just flabbergasted. Why did he wait to poop until I changed his diaper? It never fails. We packed up our poop machine (me feeling horrible for not having another diaper); I looked up at my husband and asked, “Should we do the unthinkable?” (If you don’t know what unthinkable is, the lady that sells and promotes the use of cloth would consider using a disposable herself unthinkable unless it is completely necessary.) He doesn’t even blink an eye or allow a thought to cross his head; a simple, gentle “No” is all he says. We called it a day and headed back to the house. So, with our three new books (off the bargain shelf), we headed home; disappointed, unprepared and embarrassed that I considered buying a disposable diaper.
The moral to this story: take more than one diaper on any trip. From here on out, I will keep a secret stash in my car… just in case.