After the long-ass car ride (a post unto itself, really) we arrived at the beach with two nap-less children. It was a really, really fin ride people. We hop out of the car and check out the house to find one spectacularly beautiful, sparkling pool. As soon as Sam laid eyes on it he was nuts with desire.
Waw-way? Mine waw-way? Waw-way now? Waw-way pease?
Finally we located a swim suit and made our way downstairs to the pool area. Only to discover that we had no swim diapers. Even though we had been at Target, mega supplier of swim diapers, only moments earlier. Since Sam is doing well (relatively speaking) with the whole potty training thing, we told him not to pee and slipped him into his trunks. Well, daddy did. I only say that because of what happened next.
As I was sitting on the deck with Lucy and SOB used to skimmer to catch a few buggies, Sam stood nearby, patiently waiting to take a dip. All of a sudden I look over at him and see an arc of urine escaping the waist band of his bathing suit. Apparently when SOB dressed him he didn't, um, tuck "things" in very well. The tip of his little (or big, I guess) peeper was sticking out of the elastic of his shorts and when he relieved himself it made a lovely little rainbow. Sam, of course, thought this to be the height of hilarity. Me? Not so much.
Hopefully tomorrow we can make another Target run to make sure we're well stocked.
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Check out Huggies Little Swimmers and the Parent Blogger's Network for more fun in the sun, er, pool!
1 comment:
I have had to remind Kyle to tuck Oliver's into his diaper, pointing down. You wouldn't think we'd have to remind guys what to do with a penis, but apparently we do.
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