The magacian

Today we visited Grandma Dirk. Actually, we first did an exchange. CU-3 for Grandma D's car so that I could take CU-4 for what was supposed to be his 1 year booster shots. Turns out you can't get 'em if you're less then a year old, so today was just a check up and The Huz is going to have to reschedule.

Anyway, we did have a visit with Grandma Dirk, and helped her with her bathroom vanity replacement dilemma by a trip to Ikea.

We also got to pick-up The Huz, aka Papa, who was getting his check up with the dentist. All this is vicarious information leading up to the story. '

There's a thing about the men in my husband's family. It seems they have a hard time keeping their pants on. (No no. Not necessarily only for that reason.) When ever CU-4 gets the chance, he takes his pants off and runs around in his diaper. (The Huz will strip down too, but usually only in the winter, and that's down to the not-so-sexy waffle weave long johns.)

Today CU-4 took it one step further. He took off his diaper too. This becomes an issue when one is visiting. If it were my house, I wouldn't be so worried. But, this is Grandma Dirk's house and she likes things just so. So there I am quietly panicking that CU-4 is going to get hit with a blast of air, while crawling on my hands and knees all over the place trying to find the miscreant diaper. I mean it's no where to be found. It's not only worrying, it's weird.

I dig out my super special extra diaper from the vortex called my hand bag and go about duly covering the boy's bits when I hear my mother start to laugh, and laugh hard. "I found it!" Oh gawd, I think.

DU-4 had apparently removed the lightly soiled diaper and put it away in her linen drawer - perhaps for later use as the box says they're good for up to 27 lbs.