Murphy’s Law of Baby Wipes

Disaster will strike the minute you run out of wipes. Typically on the road far far away from home.

Case #1: The Perfectly Aimed Barf
Or, The Case of the Stupid Mom Who Threw Her Baby into the Air Right After Feeding Him.

We brought baby to an MLS Earthquakes game when he was a few months old. He got fussy, so I found a slightly more private seat near the stairs and began to nurse him. When he finished, I played with him a little, trying to get him to smile. For some idiotic reason, I thought holding him up in the air above my face would be a good idea. Rookie mistake.

Carter spewed a perfect vomit-fall straight into my open mouth. Naturally, my first reaction was to look around to make sure no one caught it on camera. Not trying to be the next baby barfing into mom’s mouth viral video here.

Case #2: The In-n-Out Incident
Or, The Case of the Exploding Road Trip Poop.

It is as it sounds. Andy, Carter and I were on the way home from a weekend in Asilomar, where I attended my first SCBWI writer’s conference. We were down to one measly baby wipe, but elected not to buy more – it was Sunday and we don’t spend money on Sundays, plus we were only an hour a way from home. What’s the worst that could happen?

Oh, just the most massive, explosive baby poop ever known to humanity. I reached back to pat baby’s leg and came back with a hand covered with poo slime. It only got uglier from there. We eventually pulled over at an In-n-Out where the first available parking space was next to the nice lady taking drive through orders.

Drive through customers with nothing better to do enjoyed the free show as we stripped our baby butt-naked and ran frantically in and out of In-n-Out for damp paper towels. All of Carter’s clothes went into a “To Burn” pile on the floor. Carter, of course, was just thrilled to be naked.

Case #3: The Unstoppable Barf Machine
Or, The Case of the Baby Who Repeatedly Projectile Vomited All Over Himself While Stuck in His Car Seat in Traffic.

My mom and step-dad watched Carter one afternoon and we met up in San Francisco for a baby exchange, but they forgot the diaper bag – with the wipes and backup clothes. No biggie, we were only thirty minutes from home.

Cue projectile vomit. And not just any old projectile baby vomit, but repeated spewing over and over and over again. All over himself. While stuck in traffic. In a matter of minutes, lumpy, stinky, milk-colored mess covered Carter as he stewed in his own personal barf puddle. He kept pointing at the goop saying, “Gwoss. Gwoss. Mama! Bwoke it! Gwoss.”

It took forever to exit, then another eternity to find a gas station. Commence butt-naked stripping of baby in public parking lot and running in and out of the bathroom for wet paper towels.

Also, Andy is a sympathetic vomiter. Actually, anything stinky makes him gag uncontrollably. He makes such strangled gagging noises during a normal diaper change that Carter can’t stop laughing. He gave us quite an orchestra of sound throughout this whole ordeal.

One paper-towel lined car seat and a half-naked baby later, we were on our way home.

But, it could have been worse. At least we didn’t get the cops called on us like this guy.

Moral of both stories: Remember the dang wipes! Or else…

Post-barf Carter. Poor Booger.

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