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June 21, 2002 - Friday | 12:18 PM, CST
Yesterday I baby-sat for the first time in my life. Whats even more astonishing, is that I baby-sat an actual baby. A newborn baby, to be exact. Was I up to this daunting task in light of my baby virginity? Yes, of course I was.
My day started with Melinda coming over shortly before she had to go to a meeting at Keller Dong, and giving me a short crash course in baby care. She changed her diaper, which was wet when she brought the baby over, and fixed a bottle. (for those of you that don't know, the baby's name is "Katherine Grace," but I prefer calling her "baby")
Melinda left, and I began the feed fest. She finished, and as I was burping her, she kept farting.
At least I assumed she was farting.
Now, Melinda had told me that I would know that the diaper was soiled if I felt it, and it seemed squishy. Having never been much of a diaper groper before, I didn't have enough experience to go by, so the diaper seemed ok.
I then attempted to lay her down, but she started crying. So I held her up to me, and tried comforting her. I then laid her on the floor, in various positions, to see if that would calm her. It didn't. The pacifier was no help either. Finally, I assumed the worse, and leaned down towards the baby's rear end.
*sniff sniff*
Sure enough, it smelled pretty bad. But was it soiled? I didn't know for sure. Can farts be trapped inside the super-absorbent fibers of a disposable diaper? I wasn't sure. I assumed that I could simply take the diaper off, and if it was clean, strap it back up and continue my attempts to stop the baby's crying.
But when I removed the diaper...
BLAM-SHIT!
Green slime everywhere. "Ok Baby, I've never changed a diaper before so lets see how I'm gonna do this..." Since I hadn't quite expected the diaper to be soiled, I didn't have the plastic pad down or baby wipes out. I quickly retrieved them from Melinda's Baby-Bag, and went to work.
My first mistake was not keeping a firm hold of the Baby's feet while I reached over and removed the supplies from the bag. She curled her legs up to her body, resting them in her diaper. With her feet laden with smelly ammunition, she went to work at making the towel I had put down underneath her a big green mess.
So I cleaned up her rear end, moved the blanket away so she wouldn't re-contaminate herself, and rubbed her feet with baby-wipes. On came the new diaper, into a plastic bag went the dirty towel, and prest-o change-o the Baby was happy again.
"Thank God," I said to myself, and began the Baby's education into the works of Tolkein. I explained to her that although I had started my Tolkein education with The Lord of the Rings, she would get her start with The Hobbit. I read to her from my super-expensive canvas bound, acid-free pages, illustrated volume that cost me one arm, and one leg. As I read to her of Bilbo's first meeting with Gandalf, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
You can click here to see a picture of the Baby with my copy of The Hobbit.
After work, I went to Tina's to show off my newest boom-sticks. Next to her back yard is a swath of forest, crisscrossed with sandy four-wheeler trails. We trekked deep into the woods, and set up some of the assorted junk that I had brought from my "to shoot" pile on a barbed-wire fence.
I've never went shooting in a forest before, so I was fully unprepared for the monstrous echo when I brought my 7 mm Magnum up to my shoulder and fired a 162 grain bullet into the center of an adding machine.
Man - O - Man! The noise was like ten orgasms all bundled into a single green M&M. It was definately worth the walk to be in a place where the shockwave of my high powered rifle would go crashing through the woods and be echoed off each and every tree trunk in the forest, coming back to me like sweet Siren calls of destruction. Oh, I loved it!
We then took out the .22. As I was shooting, Tina received a call on her cellphone from her sort-of boyfriend, Dennis. Dennis is an undercover narcotics cop...
Me: *bang*
I continue to blast away at Lego pirates while Tina talks.
Tina: (to Dennis) I'm just out target shooting.
A short pause.
Tina: (to Dennis) With Matthew.
Me: No, Tina! No! We can talk this over!
Me: (in mock Tina-voice) Shut up, bitch!
I unload five rounds from the .22 in short succession.
Dennis: (to Tina on the phone) What the fuck was that?!?!
I chuckle to myself as Tina frantically explains to Dennis what just happened.
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