When Adam was a baby, I finally convinced Mom and Dad to take us to the fair. Adam couldn’t have been more than 3 months old and they had this nifty carrier thing that Dad could strap to his chest and carry Adam around. So off we went, into unchartered territory, with a father who was NOT HAPPY about the amount of money he was about to spend. I was as dressed up as I could be with my little lavender purse just chock full of money ($7 was a lot of money to an 11 year old) and about to burst with excitement.
Things did not start off well. Not only was Dad in a bad mood to begin with (which we all tried to ignore and act extra cheerful to help him out – no fighting, no asking to go to the bathroom), but he had not anticipated the parking situation. They had turned a field into a parking lot and it was muddy and rough. We had to park as far away as a person could get from the fair and hike in through the field. Mom was wearing flip flops and after we’d hiked for a good 10 minutes (or so it seemed), her shoe broke. So Dad tried to fix it – adding to the tension of the day. Dad got it fixed up so Mom could at least continue walking, sort of (she would never had admitted there was another problem at this point), and off we went again. Before we had quite made it to the edge of the field, Dad made a comment about his shirt feeling wet. We trudged along while he tried to discover the source of the wetness.
Suddenly, we heard a great shout and looked over to see Dad standing stock still staring at his hand that was frozen in mid-air. It was covered with yellowish brown slime. Yup, folks, it was poop. Upon further inspection, we found that our sweet little three-month old baby had at that very moment released more poop than we thought could come out of a grown man into the tiny littlest diaper – which of course could not hold all the poop.
There was poop everywhere: all in the carrier, in Adam’s clothes, up his back, in his hair, all over Dad’s shirt and arm and hand… And remember, things were already tense in the Wenger family that day. This was one of the first times they’d used the carrier, so they weren’t real familiar with how to put it on and take it off, and those things can be kind of tricky. So Dad found an empty tent at the edge of the fair and commanded us all inside while he and Mom tried to figure out how to get this carrier thing off him and Adam out of it without smearing any more poop around. Oh, by the way, it stunk to high heaven! There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth…
Katie and I stood off to the side and tried our best not to laugh out loud. I mean, what else do you do in that kind of a situation??? Stay out of the way and do all you can to stifle your giggles and PRAY that at some point this will strike Dad as funny.
I’m pretty sure we left the fair then. If I had any memory of the ride home, I’m sure I’ve suppressed it by now!