I opened the washing machine, ready to take the clean clothes out and put them in the dryer. The sight that met my eyes made me groan. I had once again put a diaper through the wash cycle. This is no cloth diaper, mind you, but one of the wonderful disposable inventions. Well, it’s wonderful until you put it through the wash cycle.
I lifted out the first pair of pants covered in diaper remains, carried it gingerly to the trash can and shook it violently, trying with only a little success to rid it of the millions of white diaper shreds. Back and forth I went with each article of clothing. I shook the clothes, slammed them on the trash can, shook them again, getting splatters of diaper innards all over the garage, my face, my clothes. I dropped some of the clothes in the trash can, some on the floor.
All the while I was hearing two kids up stairs screaming and two kids down stairs yelling intermittently, “Mom, I need help” (with their school work.). Yep, that pretty much sums up how my day went–covered in diaper guts. Is that potty talk? Oops! I gotta have days like this once in a while. They help me appreciate the good days!