Sandy Bottoms.

Sometimes when I first arrive at a beach vacation location I decide to head out with my family for dinner at a restaurant by the sea.

And Tom may decide that although eating dinner would be nice, playing on the beach would be nicer.

He may tug his mommy by the hand out to the ocean to watch the kite surfers.

And after watching for awhile, he may find a hole that some previous children dug and sit in it.

And he may throw sand on his head and funnel some directly into his shoes.

And then…he may make that face.

You know the face.

The poo face.

So his mommy may wait patiently, and give him privacy by not staring directly at him by watching the kite surfers some more.

(Kite surfers are kind of cute in case you were wondering.)

((Not that that’s why I was watching them.))

(((I was watching them to figure out how hard kite surfing was.)))

((((It seems hard.))))

And then I may look back at Tom and to see that his face had returned to his normal non-poo face. And then I may him if he wants a new diaper.

To which he probably said, “No.”

(I love the way he says “no” by the way. It’s actually cute. For now.)

I probably took his “No” to mean “That would be delightful, mommy!” So I probably scooped him up and took him to our car to change his diaper.

Once I placed him in the backseat and began changing his diaper, I probably realized something.

That something was: This was the worst idea ever.

Completely-covered-in-sand-child + dirty-gross-diaper + sandy-dirt-parking-lot + lots-of-people-waiting-for-my-parking-space-that-I-am-not-leaving = Boo.

It went something like this…

–Begin changing diaper.

–A car waits for my space. I wave them off.

–Wipes fall on the dirt parking lot.

–A car waits for my space. I wave them off.

–Tom puts his sandy hands where his diaper should be.

–A car waits for my space. I wave them off.

–I ask my active 1-year-old to please. stop. moving.

–A car waits for my space. I flick them off. (kidding!)

–I hurry up and get a diaper on my child. And then I try to wipe the sand away before taping it up. I give myself a C- on that.

–A car waits for my space. I sort of wave them off by not looking up and just waving. Like an insane person may do.

–I try to wipe Tom’s sandy hands at the same time putting his shorts back on. Because I’m an overachiever.

–I get Tom out of the car. And we walk away from it so everyone knows WE AREN’T LEAVING!

–I take Tom to the table where my husband and parents are relaxing and enjoying their dinner. Which I put a damper on by talking about how gross it was to change a poo diaper while covered in dirt. “How’s that guacamole? By the way, Tom’s poopy diaper was gross. Don’t know what made me think of that!” (Bwahahahaha!)

And that’s how Tom ended up with a sandy bottom.

The End.

This entry was posted in Motherhood, Tom. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Sandy Bottoms.

  1. Robyn says:

    Ha! That sounds terrible, but funny.

  2. Victoria says:

    Love it!! We had sandy bottoms changing Maxine on the beach too.

  3. Christy says:

    Was laughing out loud for this one! So hilarious, and relevant! 🙂

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