Last week, my girlfriends Christy, Erica, and Michele all came to town with little ones in tow. To give you an idea of the craziness that ensued over the next few days, I'll break it down for you:
Spencer: Age 6 years
Hannah: Almost 4
McKay: Age 3
Saray: Age 1 year 3 months
Sienna: Age 1 year 1 month
Cole: Age 8 months
Kayla: Age 5 weeks
You can see what I'm getting at. Believe it or not, we had a fantastic time. Granted, there was a whole lot of breast feeding and butt changing going on, but we still managed some great conversation and a few good meals. My poor husband was a CHAMPION as the lone male in our group as he literally saw more of my girlfriends than he wanted.
Since only three members of our collective brood are potty trained, we often found ourselves literally up to the elbows in dookie. It was often like a baby factory with each of us manning our assigned post: "Alright, Baby A is done in pre-wash. I'm sending her down to Wiping and Ointment. Re-dressers and Swaddlers, please be advised."
As the stellar hostess that I am, I made one last run to Costco to stock up on the thing that would make or break our weekend: BABY WIPES. I had packages staged all over the house so that wherever you found yourself, you could change your baby without having to get up at all. And since everyone on the planet uses the handy and conveinent blue-bagged baby wipes, everyone was happy. It worked like a dream.
After everyone was gone, I disinfected my forearms for the last time and settled into the couch. When Sienna woke from her nap, my only diaper wearing child was in need of a change. I checked her room for the necessary supplies: No Wipes. I stopped in my bedroom: No Wipes. The Living room: NO WIPES. Sienna's cubbie in the laundry room: NO FREAKIN WIPES! It was a wet and rippy paper towel job for me.
Now, the rational part of me understands that when everyone packed up, they all simply added a package of wipes to their suitcases convinced they had brought them here in the first place. But I can't help wondering, was a greater diaper wipe consipiracy really at hand? Are my oldest and dearest friends trying to pull one over on their mommy-brain counterpart? Are they secretely hoarding my wipes for ransom, or possibly as a bargaining tool to get the best guest bedroom the next time they come back?
I'll get the BOTTOM (hee-hee-hee) of this sooner or later.