A Conversation Regarding the "Incident"

She locked the door after listening to her last student's story involving an elderly grandmother and a recent fall. "See you next week," she said as she opened her umbrella and walked briskly to her car. She never liked walking alone at that time of night, especially on this campus. As she turned the key in the ignition, she longed to be home. She'd spent the day cleaning and had prepared a lasagna for dinner. She'd left her husband a detailed note on how and when to heat the dinner she had prepared, instructions on the ratios of cereal and bananas for the baby's meal along with the simple request to give her a bath.

Since the baby had recently begun a sleep strike, she felt her mind beginning to numb, and she could hardly wait to change into her flannel pajamas, devour her food, and rock her baby until the sweet delight of slumber arrived. Her baby's sleep strike usually began at 4am. She figured that if she could be asleep by 11, she'd have at least 5 solid hours, something she desperately craved. She picked up the phone to call her husband and check in, confident that her careful, deliberate preparations during the day would insure that he'd have no problems. Yet when he picked up the phone, he sounded rather strange.

"Hello," he said, voice almost inaudible.

"Everything ok?"

"Not really. We've had an incident."

"What sort of incident? What do you mean?"

"She had large diaper. It was bad..."

"What do you mean by bad? What in the world happened now?"

"Honey, I don't think you quite understand. This was a monumental amount. I guarantee you've never seen anything like it," he said.

To which she responded,

"Honey, I change many diapers every day and I've never had anything like that happen. What's wrong with you?"

"No, you don't understand. It was Everywhere,"

Shaking her head, phone in hand, she asked

"What do you mean by everywhere?"

"On the floor, in the sink, in the tub--the water was brown and muddy--on the dog's feet, in my hair, on her feet, in her mouth..."

"Wait a minute, " she said. "How did she get it in her mouth? How did you let this happen?"

"It just went everywhere. There were no wipes and..."

"Why didn't you make sure there were wipes before starting to change her???"

"Honey, that's bedside the point. There were no wipes and I was trying to hold her legs up and it was going everywhere and then the dogs started trying to lick the diaper and then she got it on her feet and then started sucking on her toes. And when I tried to stop her, she just laughed at me..."

"Oh, stop exagerrating, I'm sure it wasn't THAT bad," she said, scolding him.

"Honey, I don't think you quite understand the amount we're talking about here. There was more than you can imagine. So when I picked her up to fill the tub, it got all over me. And the dogs were tracking it around. I filled the tub but the water got muddy fast so I had to drain it and give her another bath. The first was just a rinse... And then it got on the dishes in the sink and on the scrubber and on the nozzle. So I bathed her again and then finally got her clean. Honey, it was awful," he finished, his voice weak.

"Where is she now?" she asked.

"In my arms asleep," he said whispering.

"Why are you whispering?" she asked.

"Because she's asleep..."

She started to point out that he need not whisper. After all, the baby had slept through almost an hour of her husband's vacuuming just days before, but instead she said,

"Have you put the lasagna in? I'm starving..."

"No...it's been awful. I haven't had time."

"So you're telling me that for the past 3 hours you've been dealing with this?"

"Yeah...you don't understand. It was everywhere," he said.

She hung up the phone, stifling a laugh yet not altogether unafraid of what she would find once home. The door was locked, but she could see him sitting at the computer desk, shirtless. Not wanting to fish for her keys, she knocked. He rose slowly and came to the door with the defeated look of a little boy recently scolded by his father.

"Where is she now?" she asked.

"She's asleep on the couch, but be careful. There may be some on the couch."

"Oh good lord honey. I can't believe you let this happen. I leave for the night and now This."

He follows her into the kitchen. She sees a mountain of baby wipes, shampoo and soaps on the kitchen counter, and a heap of soiled clothing on the floor near the washer. "Honey, I really don't think you quite understand..." he said following her.

(Names/identities have been changed to protect the innocent. However, I'm sure you can guess who the stars of this show are--especially the husband!)