Guess who just changed a diaper full of meconium. Me, that's who!
Let's back up. It's very relevant if you know that I always mess things up when I try to do them myself.
Last week I tried to change the headlight in Meghaan's Mazda. The end result? A bent clip and a headlight replacement, courtesy of the wonderful people at Alan Webb Mazda in Vancouver. $150 absolutely not well spent.
But look at my baby. Just look at her.
Is she mad? Does she look unhappy? Would you think this little thing was just scream crying so bad that Meghaan had to leave the room?
No! You wouldn't! You would think she just had a pint and a bowl of pho and is watching the Ducks. Because that's how I look when those things are happening.
She's the most content baby on the planet. Because I'm a diaper changing master.
I ripped her from her mother's arms. Screaming commenced. Meghaan fled the room. I put Lela on the table, found a new diaper, removed them and wiped away all the black tar poop stuff, put the new diaper on, wrapped her in a masterful swaddle, and passed her off to grandma Marilyn.
All smiles. Smiles all around. And a couple high fives between me and Meghaan.
I did it. I changed a diaper and didn't bend anything or otherwise damage her.
Father of the year, right here folks. This blog should be called "The Extremely Prepared Master Diaper Changing Father".