A few weeks before Cameron was born I had a nightmare in which I was trying to change his nappy and he just wouldn’t stop pooping. Last week I realised that this wasn’t so much a nightmare as a prophetic dream! I further wish I could say it’s only happened once …
The first time I had the unfortunate experience of a badly timed nappy change was in the ICU on the Saturday night before we brought Cameron home. It was 2am. However, at that point I was so effervescent with enthusiasm that I laughed about it and sent Col a message saying ‘Remind me to tell you the nappy story when I see you later today.’ We both found it amusing that my nightmare had become a reality.
I laughed even harder when Cameron caught Col out last week. It was fortunately a civilised hour, but the little tyke made up for that with a double fronted attack – poop and pee! I heard a strangled cry from upstairs and on arriving on the scene saw Col frantically shielding his eyes from the fountain, while trying to desperately grasp a wet wipe to clean up the other stuff.
Last night Cameron got me again and the realisation is slowly sinking in that this will probably be a far more regular occurrence than one would like. The nurse who taught me how to change his nappy used the catch phrase, ‘Safety first’ while illustrating that the flap of the new nappy should be firmly held down whenever possible. ‘Safety first’ is now printed boldly on a post-it above the changing station and Col and I are daily improving our nappy changing speeds to minimise opportunity for mishaps.