Page 72 of Love in Tandem
But apparently the baby cared. His face instantly puckered up. Oh no. Charlotte didn’t have much experience with babies, but she knew what was coming.
“Shh shh shh,” she said, bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. It didn’t help. The baby’s high-pitched squeals pierced her ears the next second, bouncing off the walls and stall doors. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
The baby obviously disagreed. And so did the toddler, because now her wails were adding to the orchestra of chaos.
Charlotte stepped over to make sure something awful hadn’t happened, like the toddler’s arms falling off, because she couldn’t fathom what would cause such awful screams.
Both arms remained in place, but unfortunately, so did her pants, despite all the mom’s efforts to pull them down quickly. A steady stream of urine soaked through them, running down each pant leg. How could such a tiny bladder hold so much fluid?
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the mom kept yelling over all the weeping and wailing.
If urine-soaked pants was this mom’s definition of okay, Charlotte shuddered to think what a not-okay moment looked like. The poor lady continued tugging down the sopping pants until she could set the little girl on the toilet, where of course not a single drop of urine dripped into the bowl.
Both toddler and baby remained red-faced and shrieking, with tears dripping down their cheeks. And now—uh-oh—Mom had collapsed onto the floor and started sobbing too.
Probably not the time to mention the baby just had a major diaper blowout. Charlotte felt the warmth creeping past her fingers, and a glance in the mirror confirmed her suspicion.
Wow. Was this motherhood?
“Um . . . is there someone I can get to help you?” Charlotte shouted to be heard over the crying. Hopefully this woman wasn’t traveling alone. Charlotte didn’t have time to handle bodily-fluid crisis situations with complete strangers inside gas station bathrooms. Not today. Not when she and Zach needed to get back on the road as soon as possible.
The woman looked up from the floor, tears dripping down her cheeks. “We’re driving to visit my parents. I’m by myself.”
Shoot. Well, in that case, of course Charlotte would help. But she needed to help fast. “Did you happen to bring a diaper bag inside with you?” Maybe the poor lady had dropped it in her rush to get to the toilet.
“It’s in the car. I think. I don’t know. It could be in the trunk. Or maybe I left it on top of the roof after our last stop. Who knows.”
“What’s your car look like? I’ll get it for you.” Anything to get away from the ear-piercing noise. Standing two inches away from a tornado siren would be quieter. The woman described her vehicle. Charlotte caught the words blue and stupid. She could probably figure it out.
She dashed out the door, still carrying the squealing infant covered in a mixture of fluids, and quickly spotted the blue car. With its engine still running. Maybe that’s what the lady had meant by the stupid part.
It took a few minutes, but Charlotte found the diaper bag in the trunk as well as a change of clothes for the toddler and an extra package of baby wipes. She turned off the car, locked the door, and spun with the supplies in one hand, the baby in the other, then bumped into Zach.
“What in the world are you doing?”
“Oh, good. Here.” She thrust the baby into his hands. “Careful, his back is covered in poo.”
He gripped the baby under the armpits. “Who is this?”
“No idea,” Charlotte said, using the wipes to clean off her hands. “I always thought I wanted to have kids, but now I’m not so sure.”
Zach lifted the baby up and down, making airplane noises. Charlotte couldn’t believe how quickly the baby stopped crying. Not only that, started giggling. He tried handing the baby back to Charlotte, but she held up her hands. “No way. My ears are just recovering. That baby is yours until you hand him back to his mother.”
“Where’s his mom?”
“Having a mental breakdown on the bathroom floor. Can you take the baby and all this stuff in to her? I’ll go watch the bike.”
“I’m not walking into a woman’s restroom with a baby covered in poop.”
“Then take him into the men’s restroom and change his diaper first.”
“I don’t know how to change diapers.”
“How do you not know how to change diapers? You just made all those airplane noises.”
“What does that have to do with changing diapers?”
“Everything. They go hand in hand. You’re clearly better suited for this endeavor.”
