By Heather O.
This is an anonymous guest post, submitted by one of our Daddy readers. And, Anonymous Dad, let me just say that we here at MMW stand up and salute you! Enjoy.
Guilt and Redemption
My wife does everything around our home. Sometimes I feel guilty about this, sometimes I don’t. Lately I’ve been trying to help more.
After sacrament meeting today we noticed that our two year old son needed to be changed. My wife started collecting the diaper bag, but as has been my practice recently I quickly picked up our somewhat overripe son and carried him and the diapers to the men’s restroom.
The men’s restroom unfortunately does not have a changing table. I laid him on the counter next to the sink, but our son was a bit too long for it. His bum hung slightly over the edge. In retrospect I must have been slightly distracted, because when I removed the Velcro clasps of his diaper, the rather large load contained therein fell with a plop, sliding down the side of the sinks and onto the tile floor.
A young man in a suit who looked to be about eight was waiting to wash his hands. “How ya doing?” I asked with a toothy smile. “Enjoy the meeting?”
I dug the wet wipes out of our diaper bag and began scooping the fecal matter off the floor. Not seeing a trash can nearby I deposited it through the circular hole below the sinks which seemed to lead to a wastebasket. Plop. Plop. Plop. I was rushing a bit and unfortunately there was now fecal matter smeared around the waste receptacle’s orifice in addition to the streak down the side of the counter.
At this point there was a line of about five Webelos-aged boys waiting to wash their hands. “So what did you all think of that talk about the Babylonian captivity?” I asked, sweat starting to bead on my forehead. “Boy, that Nebuchadnezzar, what a character!”
I scrubbed the tile floor and the cabinetry with our wet wipes. Everything went into the circular hole under the sinks. The smell was… Well, you can imagine.
I think even my son was getting a bit embarrassed because he kept his eyes closed as I replaced his diaper and pants. As I finally gathered my son and the diaper bag I gestured invitingly towards the sinks. “You boys behave in Sunday School,” I said with a smile and a wink.
I have of course asked that this be posted anonymously. Public humiliation in front of the ward’s prospective deacons was one thing. I just can’t decide if I should tell my wife about it. She does like to read this blog though, so an anonymous posting here is one way of covering my bases. Honey, if you hear about this through the cub scout grapevine, I’m sorry!
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