These are the days of our lives...

So picture it: Last week it was nearing bedtime and we were all in the family room. Jonny was on the Love Sac completely blind and in pain because he had laser surgery on his eyes that day - he can see now! Hooray! I was on the couch changing Matthew's diaper and Emma was dancing around wearing her penoir set that my parents gave her for Christmas. She loves to be a princess and/or bride in that outfit.



I took Matthew's diaper off and set it on the ground. I left it open so that I could put the wipe I was using in it after I was done wiping his little bottom. Just then Emma came dancing by. You can see where this is going.

The sticky tab on the diaper attached itself to her chiffony little "dressing gown" (she calls it) and starts dragging along behind her. I started yelling in a panicky voice, "Emma! Stop! Stop! STOP!" Jonny couldn't see and had no idea what was going on except that he knew I was changing a stinky diaper and he heard me yelling, so he sits up and starts yelling too, "EMMA! STOP!" Well, little Miss Emma hears us yelling at her, and instead of stopping just speeds up to get away from us - I think we kind of scared her - and hightails it to the couch and jumps on. The dirty diaper has some pretty good momentum by then and is still attached to her dressing gown. It is flung under the couch and then as she climbs up onto the couch is dragged all the way up behind her and is left dangling, open, in mid-air.

For the rest of the night and all the next day Emma would get this worried look on her little face and say, "I'm sorry I stepped in the dirty diaper. I didn't mean to step in the diaper. I'm sorry."