Jason had a very bad experience today.
One I thought the world should hear.
This is his story:
Zoey, today you did me wrong. We will begin at the beginning. We were sitting in sunday school enjoying a wonderful lesson when all of a sudden during a quiet reflecting moment in the lesson you decided to pass an enormous amount of gas, forcefully. This, in turn, brought looks from around the room. I pointed at you. Moments later, a smell came across my nose that rather disgusted me. So I gathered your things and we went to the bathroom. As I began the tumultuous task of changing your diaper, I immediately realized the grave danger ahead me. You had pooped through all three layers of your clothing, and on your blanket. During the process of cleaning up this mess, something terrible happened. Not only was there poop, there was now puke on the changing table, and the puke wasn't yours. During this time, there were multiple young boys who came into the bathroom only to run back out, warning their friends not to go inside because of the smell. This might better explain the before mentioned puke. I quickly regained my composure and finished the task at hand. As I reached into the diaper bag to grab a change of clothes, they could not be found. I frantically searched in despair, but came up empty handed. I had no choice but to carry you, wearing only your diaper, back to your carseat that I had left in the coat closet. As I walked out of the bathroom, I realized that classes had just gotten over and the hallway was packed, forcing me to walk down the hall with a half naked baby. We were ultimately forced to go home and get a change of clothing. Zoey, Sundays are meant for spirituality, but this Sunday was, for me, far from spiritual.
