Or, How to alienate everyone within a five mile radius
It was all good. I woke the girls up from their naps to get to our chiro appointments on time. I had shoes and a snack for Aviana. I was delivering six dozen eggs to a friend’s dad who works there and had those all ready to go. I got everyone all buckled in and everyone was quiet and content. I gaily chatted–hands free–on the phone all the way there.
I stroll in on time, toting the baby, my purse, my eggs, and holding hands with the toddler. I spied my extern and raise my arm to wave, and then I saw it.
No, not jiggly underarm fat, but yellow runny poo dripping off my arm. It was all over Brielle’s outfit. All over my purse, all over my skirt. Oozing out her diaper all over her legs and feet.
Jill the receptionist and Dr. April, our extern, noticed at about the same time I did, or maybe it was my shriek, barely disguised as an “Oh no!” that clued them in. They leapt into action; April offering to run out to my car and get the diaper bag, which of course I didn’t have in hand due to the eggs, Jill tossing paper towels my way.
I’m rooted in place trying to wipe off the worst of it before I ran to the restroom, afraid if I just go there, I’ll be leaving a lovely poo trail for everyone to follow.
As I’m frantically wiping this innocent baby of mine, she throws up. More dabs of the paper towel. I’m mentally trying to decide if I should comfort her now, or move into a less auspicious area (like under a rock) instead of in front of the receptionist’s desk, when she pukes again. The majority of it blends with the poo on my skirt, instead of joining the puddle on the carpeted floor.
By this time, April and Aviana are back with the diaper bag, so we head to the bathroom which, conveniently, is located down the hall and around the corner. Naturally, I don’t have an extra outfit for either one of us stashed in there, but I do have a clean diaper and plenty of wipes.
I clean us up as best I can, strip Brielle down to her diaper, and we get adjusted.
The doctor said Brielle was probably overheated. It’s been over 90º all week, and our Taurus was in the shop, so we’d been driving our unair-conditioned car that morning, running errands and going to some garage sales, so we were in the heat the entire time. He told me to go get her some Pedia-lyte, but I didn’t really want to make an appearance at the store covered in poo and puke, carrying my naked baby.
And although she seemed fine after all the output, and back to her normal happy self, I didn’t want to risk a repeat performance!