Surely not another nappy incident???

So Mabel had quite a traumatic day today and not in part due to her parents.

This morning we went for her next set of injections, which actually were much better than last time (no huge red leg) and the nurse was really lovely with her, but all the same not the best start to your day if you're Mabel.

Then we drove to Gordon Riggs garden centre near Rochdale (really good garden centre - I have aspirations to get going on the old vegetable patch, you know because we have nothing else on at the moment). Mabel went in her sling, held by G Kisby, and after a quick cup of tea and toasted teacake we started the shopping.

We hadn't got far, in fact I was just debating which type of mint plant we needed, when G Kisby snook up behind me and whispered,
"Er Hel, I think we have a poo incident"
"Shhh, it's the man behind me I think, not Mabel", I whispered back walking away from the smell, which I'm sure you'll agree is actually really bad if you think has been made from another adult.
G Kisby followed me,
"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's Mabel"
"Babe, that is surely not coming from our baby, come this way"

We walked around the outside section of the garden centre pretty quickly since G Kisby still looked pretty unconvinced, and with Mabel now getting grouchy my 'wandering' round the garden centre pondering veg patches was clearly not going to happen.

When we got to the car (family saloon is in the garage so this week we have a ridiculously small 2 door courtesy car), Mabel was promptly placed on the front seat (you can't get into the back easily without crawling) for a nappy check.

"I knew it wasn't Mabel" I shouted back to G Kisby who was in a battle with a bag of woodchip that wouldn't go into the ridiculously small boot,
"Really?" he replied, "You take the trolley back and I'll get her in her seat then"
(aka, I don't believe you, get out of my way so I can check myself 'half a job' Hel)

I returned to find G Kisby stripping Mabel, "No poo, seriously where did you look? You may have missed some of it since it is pretty much right up her back due to her being in the sling on release"

"Noooooooo" I replied seeing that the baby grow was pretty much sodden.

So there we were, for about a minute, squeezed in the front of a Mazda (not ours) which is parked alongside a really busy road, G Kisby holding up under the arms our poo covered baby who by now is half dressed,

"What we gonna do? We can't do it here, she won't fit in the back seat, oh God it is everywhere"
"Well...not panic", came back the ever calm G Kisby, "we'll have to change her in the car on the front seat"
"Oh God"

So leaning into the front passenger seat G Kisby attempted to change our baby without getting any of the bright yellow poo onto the black seats of our courtesy car whilst Mabel screamed both at the fact that her head was hanging off the seat (I did try to help with this, I was sat in the drivers seat being really helpful by saying things such as, "careful", "watch her head" and "oh my God she's gonna be freezing") and the fact that it wasn't a particularly warm day and she was being undressed pretty much outdoors on a main road.

Just to add another technicality, right in the middle of it all the owners of the car parked next to us returned and wanted to get into their car (which they couldn't with G Kisby stood in the gap between the cars)

"Fxxxxxx hell" G Kisby muttered as he smacked his head on the roof trying to get out of their way.

After it was all over and Mabel was, pretty much, clean we then had to comfort her with food. Yes I know this is not allowed but to be fair it wasn't exactly her fault that she was traumatised in the first place (G Kisby nipped back in to wash his hands, love it - hygienic even under pressure).

So we learnt some more lessons of parenting today:
- Never try to change your baby on the front seat of a small car which isn't yours
- Always check right up the back of your baby's nappy

'I can't believe you tried to blame that unassuming guy just wandering around with his wife" G Kisby muttered as we drove away, "I'd know that sweet sickly baby shat smell anywhere"

Poor guy, I hope he didn't hear me...