The definition of stinky (Project 6)

It’s the smile on your face that throws me, at first. You look up at me, smiling almost lovingly, and I smile back, enjoying the bonding moment of happiness that we’re sharing. But then, chillingly, the edges of your smile curl down, while the rest stays up, and your happy eyes take on an edge of serious of concern. This is followed by an intense metamorphosis that takes your normal flesh-toned skin and flushes it bright red. Your hands grip tightly, and some subtle shuddering begins throughout your little body, almost like a tiny seizure. At this point, I know to reach for supplies.

As the hazy thick aroma begins to permeate the air, I wade through it to find you happily engaged in a new activity, having put the past behind you, so to speak. Extricating you from your new-found fun startles and saddens you; now you’re crying and you stink as well. I set up base camp with the hopes of containing the Hazmat area to my immediate reach, with all my items spread out like a surgeon’s tools before the operation.

Speed is the essence of a quick and successful change. I whisk off your pants before you know its happened, then I unsnap your onesy and tuck it up for safekeeping. Severe squirming on your part may cause me to escalate to a “Level 2” maneuver, whereas I straighten my legs on top of your arms and hold you down, pinning you for the duration. Not fun for either of us.

Pulling and releasing the tabs unveils your latest creation, which is normally followed by a suitable comment by me that attempts to capture its essence for those within earshot, or no one in particular. Clean-up begins. Boys are a bit more difficult, with more interesting places for their offering to get attached. I also believe that when men are performing these clean-up duties, they tend to use more supplies –I follow that guideline. On the worst days I feel I’ve used an entire box of wipes for one session.

The smarter of us will always lay out the new clean garment in its proper orientation before beginning. It allows for a quick and easy transfer from the old to the new, with minimum fuss for you and maximum efficiency for me. It’s slid under, folded up, tabs connected and pants whisked back on. Typically during this you require me to increase the distance between the old and the new, lest we both need a shower when this is done. But now your pants are back on, and you’re stood up and sent on your way, and I’m reminded of both Yankee Candles and birth control all at once.