The Green Mile of POO

     My Mother-in-law and I were out shopping at a rug outlet a few towns over a couple years back.  It was my first outing as a "mother of two"; son was 2 and newborn daughter but a few weeks old.  On the return trip we had stopped in one of those restaurant/gas station deals (this one a Burger King) for lunch.   At one point during our meal, our noses picked up that extremely obnoxious, yet familiar smell.  As I reached in to check my infant daughter's diaper, my fingers encountered the "goo" before I even managed to touch her.  It was EVERYWHERE!  All over both her AND the carseat she was half-asleep in!  How in the world ANYONE, even a child, can sleep through something like that, I'll NEVER understand. (shaking head in consternation)  Although have a pretty good grasp of the English language, words seriously fail to convey my UTTER mortification when I reached in the diaper bag, in the midst of changing my precious girl on the proverbial changing table in the Ladies handicap restroom stall, and came up with naught but an empty pack of wipes, tube of vaseline, travel size bottle of Magic baby lotion and a handful of toys.  NO, I repeat, NO diaper.  And NO, oh my, NO spare change of clothes.  (Refer here to afore-mentioned "New Mom of two" statement!).  Couldn't leave treasure on table unattended.  No wipes to clean her up.  NO WAY was I going to attempt to carry her, covered in feces the way she was, out to the PACKED dining area (height of lunchtime) to enlist mother-in-law's aid.  So I did what any semi-experienced Mom in said situation would do: I waited.  I knew my mother-in-law would come search us out eventually.  Little did I realize it would take her 25 minutes!  Thankfully, that time is but a blur in my mind now.  When she returned from being sent to the gas station next door with nothing but wipes, the situation quickly took a turn toward the satiric.  The gas station was OUT OF DIAPERS!  I'm sure the expression on my face when I heard this could have "moored a thousand ships".  No "Helen of Troy" here!  Ingenuity saved the day in the hated form of the maxi-pad.  Funny how the gas station was stocked with those.  Guess they didn't want to risk a PMS'ing woman coming in for a pack, to be told they were out.  Talk about incurring wrath! ;)  Once I arranged my cherub, naked, in the carseat, with the pad situated under her bottom and tucked between her thick thighs, we walked the "Green Mile" to the car.  I never once looked back: until now!!!  Thanks 5MinutesforMom for the trip down Memory Lane!