This post is a long story essentially about poo, so maybe don't read it if you're eating. (There are nice bits in it too though )
On our holidays only a few weeks ago I packed my lovely scarf from Zara which I purchased with a birthday voucher about 3 years ago. For a scarf, and for what I usually spend on such accessorises, it was quite expensive. But it was pretty and a summery type one, with butterflies on it, It was the obvious choice to spend my much treasured voucher on. It served me well for about 3 years, that was, until one fateful day of seaside fun without a changing bag. This is me, with it, and my Little Tyke just as this story began..........
My lovely Dad towed his wee caravan to anglesey for us to holiday in, ( yes he is that nice ) so before he left to drive the 4 hours home, we headed down to the beach for an ice cream with 'bamps'. He and little tyke ventured into the sea while I bought the ice creams. I could see them in the distance paddling in the shallow water, then slowly the paddling became splashing and then gave way to vigorous jumping about. We hadn't really planned to stay long or kind of 'do' the beach thing, so my weary afternoon self hadn't prepared for any eventualities at all......... ooops. Sometimes being an efficient mother is just a little too much isn't it ? I like to think it's good for kids to make do with a bit of spit and a wipe from the bottom of their T shirt when you forget a baby wipe ! Anyway, as my daughter and father embarked on what only can be described as a moment of uninhibited spontaneous fun, the realisation that she had a nappy on which would now be waterlogged, and was basically soaked from head to toe, slowly dawned on me. When the little party of wet people returned to our picnic blanket, we ate ice creams and didn't really mention the wet nappy, and wet child issue. A quick decision was then made that we would eat out, the sun was out, the sky was blue, and the thought of eating a basic pasta creation thrown together in the caravan was far from appealing. I love being spontaneous and I think with British weather you just have to be ey..........sieze the moment, and the weather, and the good moods of all involved.
So we wandered to a pizzaria and sat outside watching the waves, and basking in the blue sky and early evening sunlight. I plonked my wet little tyke into a high chair, she wasn't cold, so I just thought she'd be fine til we made it back to the caravan.
It was only when we ordered it dawned on me that the nappy situation probably needed addressing. There had been no 'dirty' nappy all day, so I knew a little visit from the poo fairy was probably imminent. Now the thing about a soaked disposable nappy is they get heavy, really heavy, and my little tike is a petit little thing, so the nappy was basically round her knees. If any solids were to arrive, lets just say they wouldn't have remained contained, at all. Sure enough as our food was about to arrive, I smelt the smell............as soon as my nose connected with my brain, I took her to the toilets, sans nappy, wipes or anything vaguely resembling any of the above, hoping that my mother instincts would kick in and I'd just know what to do. There were no changing facilities, so I stood her on the sink unit, and gave the little encouragement required the nappy fasteners to give way beneath their load, whereupon the solid fell off her bum, on the sink unit ( bear that in mind ladies next time you put your bag down on one ). So the nappy got binned, there was wiping and as much 'cleaning' as was possible with a wet bit of cheap toilet paper.............Then comes the sad part, I knew there was to be about a 15 minute time gap til we reached the comfort of our campsite and a nappy, so yes, you guessed it, I took off my beautiful scarf, and formed it into a little nappy, tightly nestled around my daughters cute little bottom......I was quite pleased with my knot tying, nappy creating skills......It was one stylish nappy let me tell you, it lacked what an average nappy should in absorbency, but hey, you can't have it all.
I would like to say that at this point, we ate, went home, washed my scarf, and it is now safely reinstated in my wardrobe. The truth however is different. JUST AS I HAD FINISHED sacrificing my garment to the world of nappies, my lovely husbando knocked on the door, saying he had realised they sold nappies in the shop next door, and had bought a little packet and some wipes. ARSE ! is all I was thinking, 'Thanks sweetheart' was what I said. So the now slightly smeared with poo scarf was taken off ( my clean up job was clearly not as good as I first thought) The scarf was replaced with an actual nappy, and then placed in another nappy for transportation home for washing and 'operation scarf recovery'. Little tyke had now joined the nappy wearing co hort of 1 year olds which littered the place we were in, and I seruptiously put my clean nappy with 'a scarf which also was briefly a nappy' in a bag to take home.
And beathe.................. the saga was over. We ate, went home, happy, clean (ish), revelling in that lovely 'first night of holiday' feeling. The bedtime debacle wasn't too bad, our friends arrived for the weekend, with a tv, food was eaten, the opening ceremony of the olympics viewed ( hooray, we thought we'd miss it ), and sleep washed over us at the end of a busy day.
The scarf however, oh my scarf, it doesn't end well....It got thrown away in it's disguise as a used nappy....Yes it's true, all my efforts to get it safely home were in vain, my lovely scarf, which matched most of my clothes, was used as 'boob concealer' while breastfeeding, headscarf, round the waist scarf, any which way scarf, met it's end all because I forgot to pack a changing bag, and allowed too much sea side frivolity.
That'll learn me ey.....always, ALWAYS take a spare nappy.