Well, it was one fine morning about 4:30 am when my turn to roll outta bed and feed my sweet little angel Alaina again.  It had been about a week and a half since Skeet and I’s routine of alternating nights for feeding her had started.  My chore was to turn on the stove and start warming the bottle and then while the bottle is warming, go change Lana’s diaper.  The process is normally a quick and easy drop and toss ordeal.  This night was different. 

Everything started fine. The bottle was on the stove slowly rising in temperature and the race was on to get the diaper changed fast enough so the bottle didn’t reach the boiling point.  Back to the changing table we go.  Lana is slowly starting to wake and I’m half clouded over myself as I lay her down to start unbuttoning her onesy.  It’s a pretty easy task; first unsnap the buttons, next take her legs out and lift her feet to the air, in order to tuck her onesy (1 full piece outfit) under her back for protection, and then whip the diaper off for a quick wipe down.  Then its everything in reverse.  Tonight was different.  I’ve quickly moved to ’step two’, feet are in the air and I’m tucking away...wait...what is...THAT!  Oh no..no...please, there is NOT suppose to be something warm in the middle of her back.  My quick reflexes snap my finger back and to my eyes for a foggy glance.  My eyes weren’t  needed because my nose beat them to the punch...fresh baby poop with a sorta ’year old mustard from the shelf’ look, ya know...the slimy runny version.  NICE, I know.  This alerts the senses and sets off the alarms...ALL BRAINS ON DECK...WE GOT A RUNNAWAY!  This was not good because I was on a tight schedule with the baby milk getting warmer and warmer by the second.  First, get the baby wipes....and get a few for the stained finger....and maybe a few more just to protect the rest of my appendages.  I untaped the diaper and apparently her leg was saved only by mere centimeters from a gush of the nasty recipe.  Thank the Lord for elastic!  Quickly I laid the diaper flat and assumed the wipe down.  By now... Alaina has gotten wiff of her prize diaper and is awake...beginning to wimper as she starts to feel the hunger pains build.  Okay... assess the situation...stress is building, milk is definately warm now and Alaina is crying.  I needed to finish my duty and move on...wait...not yet, Alaina has got a little gas.  Normally gas is sorta funny to me...and it makes Alaina smile a little too but tonight, not funny.  Tonight any little bit of gas that blows brings with it a slimy sputter spray of the mustard sauce.  Not only that, but there is threats of a whole other load escaping into the already filled diaper.  My imagination is racing....."NURSE...NURSE...where’s my protective eyeglasses and mask, this stuff could burn me"  Not Good!   I starred in awe at my beautiful little girl, anxiously looking for a good ’break’ in her ’wind’ for my window of opportunity to do the diaper swap.  With a quick flip and turn I switched the offending capsule with a fresh one and we’re on our way back to phase one.  With the new diaper on...everything was fair game.  I didn’t care if she filled the new one.... it was staying on, I mean come on’....its a fresh one!  That’s the rules!  I raced to the kitchen with my whiny angel in my arms just in time to find the bubbles beginning to rise in the water.  I pulled the bottle quickly from its watery grave and dabbled a little milk on my forearm.   HOLY CRAP.  I didn’t know scalding milk could drip so slow down my arm.  YOUCH!  I probably wasn’t as ’cool’ as I should’ve been (sorry sweet Lana) but I found the only possible solution.  I dumped half the milk out and filled the remainder with lukewarm water.  Now you may be thinking, that’s a wise choice.  I know... me too!  Until I recounted the story later and found out that ’saving’ the milk is much easier that milking the milk.  DON’T WASTE IT!  So now, as my story comes to a close, I have proof that being a daddy is great and grand fun that I would recommend to anyone.  I have the stained finger, a smacked shoulder for wasting milk, and a happy little baby girl to prove it!  God is good.