Mission DTG: 22JUN15 0815HRS
Location: Living room District
The infant insurgent has entered the new fighting season after a period of normal conditions. Patrols have encountered a higher rate of IEDs (improvised explosove diapers) during the early morning hours as of late. With the latest reports indicating we would be facing newborn enemy reinforcements before the end of the year the morale of the Area Commander has been affected, leaving me to deal with clearing these devices. Luckily we were recently reinforced ourselves and now have a specialized K9 at our disposal, codename Gunner. Most of the time the K9 is erratic, and if I may be frank, a bit of a dick. But during these morning clearing ops he has proven himself invaluable at detecting the presence of HBE (hot baby explosive).
So lil man is nearing 8 months now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about babies it is this: they are poo machines. Not only do they poop (a lot), but they’re the only being I have known to be perfectly content stewing in their own filth for as long as you will let them. Even that blacked out drunk specialist will clean himself after too long, but no, not a baby. When they’re small you’ll think their first farts are the funniest thing…okay farts are always funny (hey this is a blog for dad’s, and dad’s think farts are always funny)…but eventually every fart they have turns into a bonafide shart.
So far I’ve identified two major danger zones for baby sharts:
- This little contraption can be a godsend at times. It’s essentially a little activity center you stick the kid in with the suspended seat in the middle and little activities all around them to keep them occupied when they aren’t bouncing up and down like they just shotgunned a whole case of rip-its. The bouncer is awesome because it can keep them entertained for a bit freeing you up to do other things (usually within eyesight) and expends some of their energy so they’ll crash for nap time easier (seriously why is it so hard? If someone told me to take a nap I’d be out in an instant, no fuss here).
- The bouncer comes with some words of caution. When that little poo-factory is ready to send out it’s next shipment of goods you will get no warning whatsoever. It just happens. You probably won’t even hear the shart happen, and since you’re busy deleting episodes of duck dynasty off your DVR you probably won’t smell it at first either. Now, you think to yourself “Gee they’ll probably stop bouncing and let me know they’ve dropped a fresh load, right?”. Negative troop, despite the load in their drawers they will continue bouncing, usually at a faster pace, almost as if the little devil on their shoulder is telling them “Go faster so it gets everywhere!” because it will. You’ll go to pick them up finally, the smell will hit you, you’ll set them down on the changing table and open them up to survey the damage and you won’t even know where to begin cleaning up the widespread filth that is covering their back. This is the point where you start rumbling through your TA-50 looking for your MOPP gear before even thinking about touching anything else.
The Car Seat:
- Remember back in the day when your parents just strapped you in the backseat and hoped for the best? Or mom just held you with her seatbelt on? Yeah those days are over. These days the car seat gestapo won’t leave you alone until that little minion is cinched in so tight you’ll feel like they need a little hannibal lecter mask on to complete the look. But hey, it keeps the kiddo safe in the event you ram into some idiot that’s too busy texting and driving to pay attention to the road. That, and it keeps them from screaming directly in your ear while you’re driving, so that’s a plus right?
- The angle. That’s what kills you when you’re driving from point A to point B when you’ll swear whatever was playing on the radio just played the brown note in a frequency only your little car seat rider heard making them completely evacuate their bowels. If they’d been sitting up, everything would probably stay contained, but not in the car seat. No, in the car seat they’re nice and reclined, and since you have them strapped down so tight they think they’re in an indy car that flow is going to follow the path of least resistance, which is generally right out the back of the diaper and UP their back. Just like in the bouncer however, they likely won’t let you know what they’ve just done until the smell hits your nose, and by then it’s too late. You’ll probably say “Well if they need to be changed while they’re in the car, they’ll just cry, right?”. Only one problem with that my young padawan: I’ve only experienced two moods of baby while in the car, crying bloody murder, and asleep. Your friends who have kids will tell you “oh that’s too bad, little johnny was always such a good car rider he never really cried at all” and naturally you will want to stab them in the eye with an ice pick.
Now you’re going to ask “if these two danger zones are so bad, why have them?!”. Well for one, you don’t have much choice on the car seat. And as for the bouncer, the pros of keeping the minion busy and draining their little battery will outweigh the dangers of their fresh load breaking that little diaper’s containment zone. Just be prepared for it, identify the hazard and put some safeguards in place (come on I know you did that course in composite risk management) before pulling that onesie back and unstrapping that little refuse rag.
Now drive on Soldier, that little minion’s gonna need a fresh bottle after emptying everything out of their system.