When I gave birth I thought that it was pretty hard work, you know, quite a struggle and all round general inconvenience. But I was wrong. Because compared to changing the nappy of 10 month old baby childbirth WAS A BREEZE.
I’m not sure exactly when the transition occurred; one moment my daughter was lying, smiling up at me with delight as her bottom was refreshed, the next she became a miniature escape artist, competent in the art of krav maga… A squirming, squiggling, surprisingly strong squid-like creature determined to remain bare-bottomed and scent mark most of the house.
She begins by lulling me into a false sense of security… a giggle and straight forward conversion to horizontal. She smiles sweetly and claps her hands as I gently unwrap the little gift she’s left for me and then… it begins…
Her face drops.
Her eyes become slits of complete focus.
The left foot shoots towards my face, while the right arm crosses her body for leverage simultaneously allowing her to grab the wipes packet and stick her right leg into the dirty nappy, thus loading it for combat.
She releases a harrowing war cry, flipping herself onto her front with lighting speed. Knowing I will have to deal firstly with the ‘poo-leg’, she quickly snacks on a baby-wipe, and hurls the clean nappy across the room just out of reach. She knows this will buy her just enough time to make a break for freedom.
She’s on her knees within a second and crawling in a zig-zig formation to cover as much ground as possible and make immediate capture less probable.
I regain composure, grab the abandoned nappy and commence with project place-reverse-nappy-on-crawling baby. This ends in disaster as the awkward position means the sticky tab has failed. Nooooooooooo. She punches the air in triumph, swiftly sits bolt upright and releases an almighty wee on the carpet. Satisfied she’s tortured and ridiculed me enough for the moment, she laughs hysterically and eventually gives in. I remove the elements of carpet from her derrière and seal up the rainmaker with a fresh pampers.
It’s 50/50 at this point as to whether I have enough energy to attempt a ‘re-clothing’… I find it’s easier to just pour myself an epic gin.