My father-in-law came over last night and helped me to (read "he did it") rig up the dryer. I had bought an outlet to fit and he attached it to the wall, ran the wire and hooked everything up. What I neglected to purchase, however, was the connecting tube for the exhaust.
Therefore, this morning, I got up early and went to Lowes' (again) to purchase the part. I came back, installed the hose, move the dryer into place and started making breakfast. After a nice breakfast with Sara, while Harper sat vacantly in the swing, I got ready for work.
With about 15 minutes left before I had to leave, Sara asked if I had time to change Harper's outfit. I said sure, took her into the bedroom and started undressing her. She has been wearing a diaper, a onesie and a full suit (complete with cummerbund and tie). When I got her stripped, I went to change her diaper.
Last night, Sara had put her in a different type of diaper than what we had been using. In this new one, there is a mesh lining between the baby and the absorbing pad. I assume this is to make sure that the baby is not right up against any wetness. Unfortunately, this mesh lining stuck to her skin, so as I was changing her, I had to peel it off of various parts of her nether regions.
With both of her ankles in my left hand, I lifted Harper slightly to wipe away traces of whatever that may have crawled up her back like a fecal version of Sir Edmund Hillary. It was at this time, that my beautiful, perfect daughter decided to let loose a stream of matter in a perfect parabolic trajectory.
My cat-like reflexes kicked in and I managed to dodge the brown fountain. The bed and floor were not so lucky. I should note here that during the entire time, Harper's face was composed into an expression that can only be described as tranquil.
I thought I might have seen a slight scowl when I told Sara that, luckily, my wardrobe had avoided injury. I assume that it's a sign that I should be a father, that I did not scream, cry, vomit, fling the baby, set fire to the soiled bed cover, pass out, pack a bag and leave, or attempt to blow my brains out.
And I still desperately love my daughter.