Posterior Paste

Though it was many years ago, I remember very clearly being extremely relieved once youngest daughter was through with potty training. I was glad I wouldn’t have to deal with diapers and waste products any more; at least, not until grandchildren came into the picture.

And then came Michael the Unexpected, with his own arsenal of excretions.

As with all the other standard child-related irritations he has mastered, Michael has not slouched in this department either.

He can fill his diaper with the most foul by-products ever encountered by humankind, and he usually does this when he’s on my watch, and when my hands are full.

The resultant odor that wafts throughout the room is unmistakable. And he usually runs off to hide while performing his feat. Of course, when queried about the end result, he’ll deny it.

“Michael, did you poop?”
“No,” he says, without a moment’s hesitation, from behind the living room curtains.

So off I go to fetch the diaper changing equipment, while Michael takes off running in the other direction. Naturally, to him, this is a game of great delight: Daddy chases him, he runs and squeals with glee, and he gets to flavor the entire lower portion of the house in the process. The other children are so very helpful during this process, providing very useful information while holding their noses and waving in the air (though never taking their eyes off of “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody”):

“Michael pooped!”

Gosh, thanks! It’s a good thing I happen to be chasing him with the diapers and wipes at the moment!

Now, I must take a moment to describe the small pharmacy I hold in my hand, the cache of creams and other items contained within the diaper bag. Of course, it has diapers. But it also has baby lotion, hypo-allergenic wipes, zinc oxide, petroleum jelly, nystatin, topical antibiotic, hydrocortisone, and a veritable cornucopia of other butt-related compounds. I don’t know what half of them actually do, but it seems like the most important ones are the ones that are always nearly empty (my wife can squeeze goo out of them no matter how flat they look to me – I think it’s a mommy thing).

Sadly, Michael has of late been sporting a nasty diaper rash. Lord knows how he gets these, but they usually follow a spate of diarrhea, and they’re usually pretty bad. Bad enough to make his poor little cheeks fire-engine red. On top of that, some of his skin had broken and was bleeding. This makes changing a diaper a completely different experience, because it really hurts to wipe him thoroughly. That takes care and precision, and usually a warm washcloth instead of a wipe (it’s gentler).

Once clean-up has been accomplished, we move on to The Regimen. We begin with a quick application of an antibiotic compound, followed by a quick coat of nystatin. This keeps yeast from becoming a problem. After this comes the hydrocortisone, to promote healing. Finally, we cover this in a nice layer of Desitin.

Most folks don’t know that applying Desitin must be done with gusto. This is one of those few cases in which more is better. So slather it on, my fellow parents! Your child’s rump should look like a mime’s face when done properly. It’s gotta be thick to protect!

All done, now we just close up the diaper and send him on his way.

As I finish wiping off my own hands the remnants of this adventure in kiester care, I add to my mental tally of diapers changed, and thank God that I’m one closer to the holy grail of toddler-hood: successfully completed potty training. There is hope, my friends, there is a light at the end of the tunnel that tells me that one day I will NO LONGER have to be responsible for the upkeep of this child’s nether regions.

Ah, that shall be a glorious day. We shall have a fine celebration that day.