The Ultimate Punishment For Diaper Rash

So here is my first post about my incredible Mr. C. I am going to do a lot of “flash back” with him because he is a super cool 4th Grader now and I don’t want him to hate me for embarrassing him….well, I will anyway but I am trying to contain the personal stories of the here and now about him to a minimum anyway.

When Mr. C was a baby, he had a really bad case of diaper rash. His skin would crack and bleed, we put every salve known to man on it. Boudreaux’s Butt Paste wasn’t invented then, (or if it was, we didn’t’ know it) but if any of you are new Mommies, I hear it is the bomb. We had tried everything for this hideous diaper rash. Every cream known to mankind was auditioned. We also tried warm baths. No luck. He also had a couple of really bad chest infections and croup so we had an arsenal of creams at our disposal upstairs.

One night, The Man and I got home from date night, paid the babysitter, thanked her for having our little angel asleep so we could have grown up time and walked her out the door. The minute the door closed, Mr. C awoke with a nasty poopy diaper. It could take two of us at that point to change his him. His little bottom hurt so bad, it was tough to get a good clean up in while trying to keep him from wiggling out of our grasp. So we went upstairs to do our job. I held his legs and spoke quietly to him, The Man did the dirty work and when it was all done and time to put the soothing cream on his little tushie he did just that.

You can imagine the shock on our faces when our little 6 month angel turned beet red and started doing the “I’m in so much pain I’m screaming but no sound is coming out” move. But then the sound came, and it was LOUD. His eyes were literally bugging out of his head. I was all, “WTF???” and The Man scrambled to find out what on earth could be the issue. Then I saw it, the cap off the cream put on his tushie….labeled not “Diaper Rash Crème” but rather, “MENTHOL”. OMG! Not The Man’s fault, they were all sort of housed in the same area and let’s face it, it was late, we were tired and we never anticipated poop at midnight…but there it was.

An hour, endless tears, and a bath later, the little man was in bed with us. One our first big dates nights since the arrival of Mr. C ruined, and a little boy with a burning butt safely tucked between us. So, all of you new Mommies out there, fear not, those of us that have gone before you have fucked it up enough so that there is very little you can do to shock us for we have seen it and pretty much done it all years later and our children are still alive in spite of us. I have another story to tell you later on about adventures in potty training but I’ll need to save that for now, while I regain my strength from admitting to this little failure.