I swear it wasn't premeditated.
I mean, how could I possibly get a baby to blast poop out of his diaper all over my friend's hands on demand? (I wish I could! It would be the best practical joke ever!)
But I can see how my friend George might be a bit suspicious. One minute he was minding his own business at our friend's birthday party and the next thing he knew he was holding 3-month old Preston.
I must give baby Preston some props. He’s absolutely adorable and has a wonderful disposition. But I've never seen such a sense of humor on an infant! And what great comic timing!
"George, hold Preston, OK? Jackie and I are leaving," I said as I placed the baby in George’s arms.
George, always the good guy, shrugged his shoulders and held on.
Then I noticed that Preston was throwing up.
"Look out, George! Preston’s puking!" I said. Jackie ran for the spit rag and mopped up the puke from George's shirt. All was fine...for a minute or so.
Poor George tried to give Preston back, but we were too busy saying our goodbyes to take him.
Then came the real entertainment. George realized that the brown stuff all over his fingers wasn't chocolate. "Baby exploding excrement!" he exclaimed, attempting to remain calm. Chip, Preston's dad, whisked the baby away for clean-up (I suspect a fire hose was required).
In the meantime, poor George was left standing in the hallway with a hand full of poop.
It's a darn good thing I was there to save the day. Not unlike a surgical assistant, I helped him locate a sink, turned on the water for him and sprayed soap onto his hands. I even handed him a towel! Yep, George sure was lucky I was around that night!
"OMG! That was the funniest thing I've seen in a month!" I said to George. "I just hope Tiffany caught it on film!"
On my way home my from the party I had a flashback to another "baby exploding excrement" experience. It was on a flight from Milwaukee to Buffalo. Baby Kimmy was all dressed up in an adorable dress when her diarrhea kicked in at 20,000 feet. I had 6 diapers with me and went through every last one in very short order.
Just imagine my apprehension as Kimmy, wearing only her dress, flew commando during the last 15 minutes of that U.S. Airways flight. There was no nerdy onesie to hold any makeshift paper towel diapers in place. I had no duct tape. All I had was my lap.
The only thing I could do was pray.
God answered my prayers that day. I made it to baggage claim without any excrement explosions, and I hastily put a diaper on poor baby Kimmy.
I was very lucky that God doesn't have Preston's sense of humor.