“Tom! We have a diaper emergency! I repeat: a diaper emergency!” I yelled into the phone.
“Amber, can you say hello first like normal people?” came my husband’s irritated voice.
“Not during an emergency,” I answered.
“What’s a diaper emergency?” Tom sighed. He was at work and was not pleased on having been disturbed.
“I was going to get diapers for Natalie today but it’s snowing like mad outside and you know how I get when I drive in the snow. So can you pick up some diapers?” I asked sweetly.
“Now?” Tom said in an incredulous tone.
Sometimes I think my husband is a half-wit.
“Yes, now! Why else would I be calling about a diaper emergency?” I said impatiently.
“I’m at work now.” Tom was speaking to me as though I were a complete idiot.
“I get that. But can you, I don’t know, run into the commissary really quick?”
“No! I’m not allowed to go shopping while on duty. You know this.” I pictured Tom rubbing his temples. He says sometimes when he talks to me that he gets a headache.
“Yes, but surely your boss would understand a diaper emergency,” I pointed out.
“No,” Tom said. “He wouldn’t. I can go after work.”
“But Natalie has two diapers left! She might not make it till the end of the day!” I shrieked. “Just..nevermind. I’ll get the diapers myself. I just hope we don’t crash.”
“No!” Tom shouted. “The roads are bad out there. I’ll pick up diapers after work. That’s all I can do.”
After I hung up, I looked at Natalie.
Then I had an idea. I went and dusted off her potty and held it over my head as though it were trophy.
“Do you know what this is?” I said to Natalie, my voice high-pitched. I had to make it seem like this potty was the most exciting thing in the world. I was trying to channel Steve from Blue’s Clues. The man gets excited over a freaking spoon. Surely I could get excited over a hunk of plastic.
“This is a potty. A fantastic potty! And do you know what? You get to go in it today!” Then I set it down and clapped my hands manically.
Natalie stared at me with eyes as big as saucers. This did not compute.
“Natalie,” I tried again. “You’re two. You’ll be three in March. I think it’s time that we ditch the diapers. What do you think?”
Natalie frowned. “I yike diapers!”
I made a face as though she had just announced that she liked brussel sprouts. “How can you like diapers? They look like they’re terribly uncomfortable. Underwear is soft and comfortable.”
“I yike DIAPERS!”
I rushed upstairs and brought down the various packs of underwear that I’ve bought.
“Here are some Yo Gabba Gabba underwear! And oh look, Princess underwear!” I gushed, holding them up.
“Yo Gabba Gabba,” Natalie said and took a pair.
“Do you want to take off your diaper and put these on?” I tried to make it seem like I didn’t care one way or another. If you get too hopeful, she senses it and will abruptly run off.
“Yes!” Natalie agreed.
I wanted to click my heels with joy. But I composed myself and calmly helped her put on the underwear. I thought, “This is it! This is the day when she’s going to use the potty. I’ll get to call Tom back and tell him that he doesn’t need to pick up diapers because Natalie is potty trained. I can—”
A tinkling sound caught my attention.
Natalie was totally taking a piss in the middle of the carpet.
“Natalie! The potty! The potty!” I picked her up mid flow and plopped her on her throne.
“I NO YIKE POTTY!” she bellowed, kicking her legs. “I NO YIKE POTTY!”
“Why don’t you like it? It’s tiny and white and…has green armrests,” I began to flounder, unsure of what else to say about it.
“NO!” Natalie screeched, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do you want to use the potty that we use? Is that the problem?” I asked.
“I...no...YIKE...potty!” Natalie answered, staring me right in the eye.
“What, do you expect to be in diapers forever?” I boomed, losing my patience.
“Yes,” Natalie said primly.
So the diaper went back on. I know some people say to toss out the diapers and refuse to buy them anymore. But you have to understand, I have a really, REALLY stubborn daughter. She’d probably urinate all over the house.
Thankfully Tom got home a little early. I rushed out when I saw him pull up.
“The diapers?” I said, holding my hands out. I nearly slipped on some snow.
“You know, I thought my wife was being all sweet greeting me and all you want are the diapers?” Tom said with a mock hurt expression on his face.
“Here,” Tom said and handed the package to me.
“Thank you. I love you!” I said and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
When Natalie saw the diapers she clapped her hands. “Yay. I yike diapers!”
“You like diapers and not the potty? You’d rather sit in your filth then?” I said, not understanding my daughter’s logic.
Natalie took the package from me. “I yike diapers.”
Fine. So she’ll be the only college bound kid in Pampers, I guess.