Diaper Change, Anyone?
Today is Sunday, the day of rest. And, I'm not making light of it, I just haven't quite figured out how to make that [rest] happen yet, in a godly way, other than napping to rejuvenate myself so as to not give way to sudden urges to be less than kind. At any rate, I'll make today's blog short so that hopefully you can get back to what you weren't doing. ;)
I had almost decided that there was nothing worse than changing a poopy diaper (especially the kind that leak out to the north, east, south and west!) until I had to go out to my car to put a new registration sticker on my super sloping windshield. WHY does a mom-mobile need to be THAT aerodynamic?!
What am I? The lead person for Lance Armstrong's entourage?!
Ok, meanwhile back at the windshield... the glue they use on those registration stickers is even more adherent than meconium, if you can imagine that! At least it’s clear, I guess. And, it only happens once a year (instead of every two hours, round the clock, like a newborn diaper). So, as I'm reaching over the steering wheel, which was ever so gracefully lodged in my armpit, I'm wondering why the state of Texas can't just send out a complimentary plastic scraper and some sticker removal spray, or even a moist towelette like Chik-Fil-A. I guess we don't pay enough taxes (groan), so I did the best I could with a baby wipe and a putty knife [insert scratching glass sound here]. Ugh...
Anyone need a diaper change?!?!?