Although we had seen my parents only a few weeks prior it had been about a month since we had seen my sisters, nephew, and niece. Brandon and I both were feeling in need of some Kyndahl, our nephew, laughs and made plans to make a visit to Cinci. As usual, I packed everyone’s stuff and readied what was to be put in the trunk and what went in the back seat. We made sure to load up and leave around the monkey’s nap time. We headed out in high spirits. I started out in the back seat with the monkey and the dog so that I could administer the bottle that would knock the monkey OUT!
15 minutes down the road and the monkey is wailing. Bottle fail, Monkey 1-Mommy 0. I climb in the front seat to let him cry it out and hoping he’ll drop off to sleep. When his cry escalated I climbed back into the back seat to check out the problem. Orale Gel fail. The monkey is still crying for the hills. Monkey 2- Mommy 0. Reaching down I can feel that he needs to be changed and readied to do the deed mid drive. My plan came to a full halt when I pulled off his pants I noticed the monkey had poop on his legs… the only place to pull over was some Podunk state route exit with nothing more than a cemetery, of course! Thankfully it wasn’t the side of the interstate so it would have to do.
By this time we can smell what the monkey has done. Upon opening the car door Tiko takes off and starts peeing on every headstone in sight; the Mann family offers their condolences and apologies to all those buried in that cemetery. As I pull the monkey out of his car seat dread, and my gag reflex, kick in. The ENTIRE car seat is covered in poop as is my son. Groaning for Brandon I carefully climbed out of the car with my son held out in front of me, arms fully extended.
Luckily I had dressed the monkey in a button down shirt that came off easily. As I held my son out in front of me like a smelly garbage bag, Brandon pulled off his diaper and dropped it on the ground. Placing his burp cloth on the trunk of the car we laid the screaming monkey on his belly and started scraping poop off his ENTIRE back; throwing the wipes on the ground as we went. We now understood why he was so upset. Monkey 3 – Mommy (still) 0. Laughing at the picture I was sure we were making I told Brandon to hold on I wanted to get my camera. LOL.
Having not fully understood the purpose of scented diaper disposal bags that I received at a baby shower realization hit me like a rock on the forehead. I took a second to thank my heavenly Father for the blessing of the giver as I pulled them from the diaper bag. As Brandon changed, dressed, and medicated the monkey with gas drops I picked up all the poopy stuff and placed it in scented bags and threw the 6 bags in the back of the car. (We were in a cemetery so of course there were no trash cans). While Brandon attempted to pacify the monkey, who had started to calm since being cleaned off, I pulled the car seat out and started cleaning it the best I could. As I was, yet again, scraping poop I noticed he had gotten some UNDER the cover. I had to remove the cover and get in a bunch of little nooks and crannies getting poop all under my finger nails. FAIL! Monkey 4- Mommy ZERO! Doing the best I could I warned Brandon that we might be smelling poop all the way to Cinci, and we were less than 30 minutes down the road. LOL.
After all was cleaned up and the monkey was happy we loaded up the car, yet again, but not before snapping a few pictures of some Carrico headstones (Brandon’s family name). Once on the road the monkey fell asleep within 5 minutes and we had a peaceful res of the drive to Cinci. Laughing at the whole ordeal I assured Brandon there would be a story WITH pictures.
Our son may have won the battle that day but the war is not over- IT’S ON NOW! BRING IT!
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