At Katherine’s check-up today the assistant asked us to strip her down, diaper and all. I, of course, was enamoured: so nice to see all that cute baby skin! But then the assistant asked me to carry our naked baby and turned to walk down the hall to the scale. I quickly picked her up, neglecting to grab any blanket, and was rewarded with a major bout of spit-up. Great.
Then the doctor came to check her out, still naked, and asked me to hold her so that she would be less restless. I did, but then was rewarded by Katherine’s peeing all over my shirt, soaking my lap and legs. We’re talking a serious job here.
So by the time we left the doctor’s office every item I was wearing (barring socks and shoes) had been done in.
Next time I’ll bring 12 blankets to the office . . .
Update: I realize I have some seriously ambiguous pronouns in this post. Thank you for attributing nakedness and peeing to Katherine and not to the doctor or the doctor’s assistant. And thank you for forgiving me my slapdash syntax.