Anyone who has had children knows that the first few weeks require a good deal of adjustment. Even for the seasoned parent, this time is unpredictable. While some things come as second nature, each baby is different, and situation is unique. This time can be exhausting, difficult, and even scary, but it is rarely without humor.
Even though we are on baby #3, we’ve already had a few unique experiences. One of them happened yesterday morning. You see, my grandma gifted us 6 weeks of a cloth diaper service. The way it works is they bring you all your diapering supplies, and all week you use the diapers, stashing the dirty ones away in a bag. At the end of the week, you set your bag of dirty diapers outside, and they pick it up leaving a bag of fresh, clean diapers in its place. It’s a pretty awesome deal. Some people liken it to weekly visits from the diaper fairy.
Our first pick up was yesterday. We had all been sleeping pretty late since baby’s arrival, and we didn’t know how early the diaper service would show up, so we decided to put the bag of diapers out the night before. We worried briefly about it attracting animals, but the bag is made of some super material that leaves it virtually odorless when zipped up, so we figured it would be okay.
At 11 am, there was a knock on the door. My husband, Jeff, answered. The man at the door said, “Hi, I’m here to pick up your diapers.”
Jeff said, “Oh yeah, they’re right. . . hm. . . that’s weird. . .”
He explained to the guy that he had set them out the night before. He looked all around the patio and in the front yard. He came inside, asked me if I’d done anything with them (which received a look from me suggesting he was a lunatic), then he went outside and looked around again, the whole time stating every possible hypothetical scenario. “Maybe one of our kids brought it in? Maybe our dogs got out and dragged it to the back yard? Maybe my wife. . . Has this ever happened before?”
The diaper guy said, “No. Never.”
Jeff stopped searching, and after about a minute of staring and speechlessness, he finally he said, “I don’t know what to say. They had to have been stolen. I can’t imagine anyone doing it, but that has to be what happened. I can’t think of any other logical explanation.”
I was freaking out a bit, ’cause I didn’t want to have to buy over $100 worth of diapers that I’d never get to use. Plus, if our neighbors were stealing bags of dirty diapers off our porch, then none of our belongings would be safe.
The diaper guy probably thought we were crazy people. He said, “Well, if they turn up, give us a call.”
Jeff turned to go in the house, and noticed a flyer on the door handle. He picked it up, went, “Oh my. . . ” and held it up for the guy to see.
The diaper guy said, “Is that a charity service?”
Jeff said, “Yep.”
It turns out that a few weeks ago, Jeff told Big Brother/Big Sister that we had a big box of clothes for them, and would set it out on Friday, the 12th. The same day as our diaper pick up. So yeah, we donated dirty, smelly, poopy, stinky diapers to charity.
Even though we had a box of clothes in the garage all ready to go, we forgot about the pick up. In our defense, our new baby was not even 2 weeks old. He’s been a pretty big distraction.
The case of the missing dirty diapers was solved. Jeff called the charity, and they returned the bag to us. Thank goodness they had left us a flyer, um, thanking us for our “donation.” Could you imagine the poor person who would have opened the bag, and dumped it out on a table to sort through the contents…
The moral of this story: Dirty diapers do not make good charitable donations.
OMG That’s hilarious! That poor charity pick up guy!
And with this, I will forever think of you every time I put out clothes for charity pickup. And now I’m going to tell Lars the story. He’s going to DIE.