Yesterday after sacrament meeting, I was walking my three littlest kids to their nursery and primary classes, and I caught up with a friend so I could chat with her. Her husband came up behind us and mumbled something about a diaper being stuck. I figured Camille's dress must have gotten tucked into her diaper, and began turning her around trying to fix it. My friend stopped to see what the issue was, also, and she was the one who figured out: the diaper was stuck to ME. The back of my skirt, specifically.
Like I said, Constant humiliation.
When I told Craig he laughed hysterically and then said, "At least it was a clean diaper!"
Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, someone comes up with a new low for you to stoop to...
Anyway. Sorry I don't have a picture for you. But, no, I'm not really sorry.
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