I hit an all new low point in parenting this evening. Elizabeth and I took Ella to climbing practice, and we got there a little early. Ella wanted to show me how she could climb some routes, so I pulled Elizabeth out of her seat and wandered around the gym with her as we watched Ella climb. After about five minutes, I realized Elizabeth smelled poopy, so I checked her diaper and discovered a poonami. I told Ella that I was going to take Elizabeth to the car to change her and that I would be back to watch her climb some more.
When I got to the car, I put Elizabeth down in the back of the Suburban and realized that her diaper had really exploded. The whole front of my shirt was covered in poop, and I do mean covered. In addition, Elizabeth's jumper was filled with poop that had overflowed.
So I got us cleaned up as best I could with the mostly dried out wipes I had in the trunk and went inside to say good-bye to Ella. When I told her why we had to leave and showed her my shirt, she nearly fell over laughing.
The gym is in south Austin, and at that time of day, it takes at least 45 minutes to get to from our house in the central-ish part of town, so I headed to the closest store I could think of to buy a new shirt for me and a new jumper for Elizabeth - Walmart.
I called my mom as I was headed to the store, and she had a good laugh at my expense. This particular Walmart is fairly new, but it's still pretty dreary and grim, and the shoppers are always entertaining. I commented to my mom that I'd fit right in given my poop-covered shirt. I pondered taking Elizabeth's dirty jumper off her and having her just wear her diaper but decided that was a little too redneck for my taste.
My mom had the best comment, though. She said I'd probably be seen by some snooty Westlake woman who was there slumming, and she'd tell her friends about seeing a lady wearing a poop-covered shirt and say, "See! That's why I NEVER shop at Walmart. The trashiest people always shop there."
I made it through the store without a problem. I found new clothes plus a few other items, and nobody stared at me that I noticed. Although I did almost get hit in the head by a flying box of Advil that a woman had thrown at her husband in an unsuccessful attempt to get his attention.
See! The trashiest people always shop there..