A little background:
I am a wife to my husband Tom, and a mother to my baby boy Coulter. I work one day a week, Tuesdays, at The Furniture House in Luverne. Half of the time Coulter is with Grandma Thone and the other half he is home bonding with daddy.
Sometime during my second half of my shift I am bound to get a call from daddy asking all the "What do I do if..." and "How do I do that..." questions.
Well, this week we have a sick boy. Coulter has had many many (uncountable) dirty diapers today! Poor little booty. He has been in at least 5 outfits and hoping to stay in number 5 till morning.
Well, during that second part of my shift---somewhere between a napping baby and Tom calling me frantic--Coulter MESSED himself AND the crib!
Tom: (calling me at work, waiting for me to pick up) "What do I do...?"
Me: "Put him in the tub and give him a bath!"
Tom: "What about his crib?"
Me: "Take him out of his crib and I'll clean it when I get home."
One-Two minutes later...(Tom calling from in the bathroom)
Tom: "I'm not very good at this."
Me: "What do you mean?"
Tom: "The bath."
Me: "You're learning it's ok. Is Coulter clean yet?"
Tom: "Not yet. He's in the tub, but his diaper is still on."
Me: "Take the diaper off...!"