Low man on the totem pole

Instances like today will always remind me, that no matter what successes may eventually befall me in life, my daughter will make sure to keep me humble. She's sweet that way.

Today, I drove 45 minutes to meet a friend from my collegiate newspaper days who lives over in Lansing. So we met up in Grand Rapids at this awesome little deli place that was really good. Even the vegetarian folks would probably have a conniption over it. Megan and I were meeting him and his 7-month-old son, Jackson. Considering I had not seen him in literally 10 years, it was great to catch up and share dad stories since he is playing the role of stay-at-home dad for the time being too.

Megan over the past few weeks is really starting to develop. She's eating a lot more solid foods, she's learned how to crawl down from the couch and beds without falling on her head, and she's even waving to people. Who knew I would celebrate such accomplishments with a fervor that would equal meeting Tiger Woods. We had a great lunch though, and surprisingly nobody really came over to us to say how amused they were at two dads taking care of their kids.

But the highlight, as far as daddy embarrassment was involved fell early on in the lunch. Soon upon sitting at our table it became VERY evident to me that Megan had an odor about her that would not be marketed at any department store perfume counter. Eau de toilet would have been a more accurate spelling. I had changed her about 45 minutes prior, and it was unusual for her to do her business during the day like this, so of all times, this was the day she chose. I scanned the men's bathroom and of course there were no baby changing stations attached to the wall.

(General aside - this is 2009 here people. In this day and age people travel with their babies all over creation. We aren't shut-ins. Can businesses from henceforth add a changing table to their bathrooms. They can't be that expensive. Instead of using the bailout cash to provide millions in bonuses to CEOs who were utter failures at their jobs can we carve out a small percentage of that to put into outfitting restrooms with baby changing capabilities?)

Now, I have two options. Let her sit in poop for the next few hours while we eat and then drive her home. This isn't really an option because she would've started complaining eventually. Not as soon as you might hope or think when one is sitting in their own mess, but whatever. OR I can figure out a way to change her in this bathroom. I opt for the latter. Luckily it was a private bathroom so I could lock the door and be relatively discreet. I say relatively, because my daughter chooses public restroom changings to wail at the top of her lungs for some reason. Not at home. Just when we're surrounded by other adults who, while saying how cute our baby is, I know are secretly questioning my parenting skills on everything from outfit coordination to feeding choices.

LUCKILY, today was the one day she decided to pipe down and make the ordeal somewhat less humiliating for me. Anyway, the bathroom looked clean so I unrolled the changing pad, took a deep breath and sat on the floor, of a men's bathroom, and changed my daughter. But of course it couldn't go smoothly. She's entered into this wiggle worm stage and refused to stay still. She somehow grabbed the changing pad strap and was pulling it up to her mouth, which besides being disgusting since we're on the bathroom floor, was pulling the pad out from underneath her, making it impossible to change her. So I had to tuck the strap under the pad and hold it down with my foot, while trying to contain the mess into the diaper with one hand while the other held her feet up in the air like I was showing off a prized fish. Six or seven wipes later, the new diaper was back on and we headed back to our table with a renewed sense of our place in the family hierarchy.