Whit's Wisdom

My Grandson, Evan, is an adorable bundle of joy....until it's time to change his diaper.  Then he turns into a squirming, screaming bundle of aaaaaarrrrgggghhh!!!!  I had girls...20 years ago.  I don't remember there ever being a problem with diaper changes.  Maybe this is like childbirth though.  God helps you forget all the excruciating PAIN.  All I know is when Evan needs a diaper change I look at the clock to see if there is anyway possible I can wait until his Mother gets home!

I can't stand him crying.  My daughters both believe I am too softhearted, but it isn't that at all.  I can't stand the sound.  The only thing worse than the sound of a kid pitching a fit is someone eating potato chips with their mouths open.  So I avoid his crying at all costs.  Sorry, Dr. Phil and Nanny McPhee, he's a grandson - I don't have to be the bad guy!

Getting to the point finally - when it came time to change Evan's diaper yesterday, I flew him into his room like an airplane.  I pretended to drop him on his head a couple of times.  I blew on his belly.  I made silly fart noises with my mouth.  He still cried.  He still twisted.  He still wriggled and wraggled.  I finally took the diaper, hooked the Velcro on each side making it a pair of underwear, stood him up and pulled up that diaper like a pair of pants.  No screaming....no crying....although I did see a little twinge of "curses, foiled again!" in his eyes.

I broke down and told his Mom about it today.  I assumed the lecture position (back turned, eyes rolled back in my head)  but was delighted to find out I was a GENIUS to her.  She used the same Grammie method and it worked perfectly. Perhaps I should invent something....oh, never mind.

Grammie - 1
Evan - 0