The kids were really thirsty today. We gave them plenty of water and diluted apple juice to quench their thirst. So before we went out for dinner and a quick stop to the grocery store, we diligently changed their diapers. And any opening paragraph that uses the word "diligently" is bound to descend into a world of embarrassment and stupidity.
Emma and Andrew were well-behaved during dinner, and neatly ate their cheese pizza, fruit, and drank a cup of milk. Before we left the restaurant, Lisa and I did a quick pat on the butt to make sure no one had to be changed. Oh. We also checked the kids, and they were fine too.
At the grocery store, we put the kids into the shopping carts and quickly went up and down the aisle to grab a few essentials. Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) came along too and was pushing Andrew around. But the fun was soon to end.
"Hey," observed Auntie. "Andrew's legs sure are sweaty."
I looked at Andrew and corrected Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) after she finished wiping Andrew's legs down with her bare hands. "It's pee," I said.
As Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) went looking down aisle 14 for hand sanitizer, I took Andrew to the car to change his diaper. I must say as I began to remove his pants, I have never seen fuller underwear. Albeit, there was that time in college when me and my friends tried to all fit into one pair of underwear, but that wasn't a good idea since we were all members of the Sexually Transmitted Disease Glee Club.
Since Andrew's pants were soaking wet with pee, I just placed him back into his car seat with only his diapers. I figured between the amount of urine he just expelled and the five minute drive home, the likelihood of another pee problem was not that large.
But the funniest thing that happened was on the drive home. All of sudden, it must have dawned upon Andrew that he was only wearing his diapers because he started shouting, "Where my pants? Where my pants go?"
We explained to him that his pants got wet, so we had to drive home to get him more pants. I don't think that calmed him down because he continued to shout, "I have no pants! Where my pants? I have no pants!"
Pretty soon, we all started to copy Andrew and pretended we didn't have pants on either.
"I have no pants," said Emma.
"Where my pants go?" asked Lisa.
"Daddy has no pants," I said.
"I don't wear any pants either," said the homeless man in the trunk.
After realizing a homeless man with no pants snuck into the back on the SUV while I was strapping Andrew into his car seat, we dropped the vagrant off at the next gas station and proceeded home a little unsettled.
No comments:
Post a Comment