Laid the fella on the changing table & dismantled his poopy diaper.
With tragic history as my guide I laid a washcloth over his plumbing.
As I was prepping the fresh diaper he started pooping everywhere.
Undaunted, I grabbed his feet and slid him out of the swamp, wielding fresh wipes with elan.
New diaper at the ready I snatched the washcloth heavenward.
Sensing opportunity he struck, trying to write his name on my shirt in urine while I laughed uncontrollably.
A few weeks in I can see how someone who wasn't 100% behind the whole project, or who had unrealistic expectations about family life, would be absolutely miserable and prone to taking out that disappointment on the blameless child.
I'm happy my automatic reaction to being pissed on was a laughing fit.
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