Parks and poo

We had another trip that didn’t quite go to plan at the weekend. I generally get quite grumpy if we spend all day at home and we needed some food so we had to go out but Mark was working so I thought we would have early lunch then head out for the afternoon. I obviously didn’t make the most of A’s three hour nap in the morning though and, despite my best efforts, we didn’t get out the house until 2pm. So we scaled down our plans and settled on a trip to the supermarket with a walk to the nearby park first to make it more appealing to the boys. I’m not sure what takes us so long to get out sometimes. I don’t feel like I am faffing but I do catch myself doing completely unnecessary things when I’m panicking about leaving on time, like rinsing out the glass recycling or folding clean nappies.

It started raining about 30 seconds after we got out of the car.

For once I had peered at the sky before we left (rather than trusting my usually incorrect weather app) so I did chuck some coats in the boot but I didn’t think to include a waterproof for A or the rain cover for the buggy. This is the problem with spring, I just get used to the sunny weather and having to carry sun cream and sun hats and then I have to switch back to coats and wellies. We decided to keep plodding on towards the park, against the flow of sensible people leaving because of the rain. We paused by a little stream for W to have a go on the stepping stones - having successfully negotiated his way across he decided to up the ante and jump his way back. He nearly slipped on one and then stuck his foot in the water on the last one, so was down to two crocs and one sock.

At this point I decided to cut our losses and retreat to the dry of the John Lewis cafe. There was a brief moment of calm as the boys snaffled their gingerbread men and then A decided to contribute to the afternoon with an absolute poo explosion. I was expecting it to be bad as I had smelt him across the table, thought we had got away with it as there was no sign of any leakage when I unpoppered his dungarees then realised it was all coming out the top of his nappy instead. The four wipes I had in the bag were not man enough for the job so I spent a while trying to persuade the boys to pass me the whole toilet roll rather than the tiny slivers that T was offering me. It could have been worse, at least I had remembered to restock the changing bag with some spare clothes otherwise A would have been wearing something fashioned out of a muslin. 

We finally made it downstairs to the shop, had a quick dash around to get a few things for tea and were back home 15 minutes before our guests. On Monday T said to me ‘I not like A’s poo in John Lewis yesterday’ - think the experience has stayed with us all!