Sunday talks, young families, and perfect timing

Warning: This may contain some graphic content, so for those with weak stomachs and bad gag reflexes, this may not be for you.

While we're on the subject of Sunday talks, and young families (please refer to pineapple princess and somewhere in time blogs) let me take you back a few weeks to our day-before-Veteran's-Day Sunday program. Being Veteran's Day, the hubby was aked to speak a little about his service. While we're loading in the van to go to church, of course, the middle child has to mess his diaper. We can't be late because Dad is speaking so when we get to church, Mom has to run #2 to the bathroom for a diaper change. Meanwhile, the RS president grabs one baby and Dad hands the other two off to another family so he can take his seat on the stand. K- so one fresh diaper and we're good to go, right? Wrong. The hubby was the first to speak and was doing such a wonderful job. I'm sitting there trying to pay attention, as much as my kids will let me. The lady next to me has Ziki and I'm thinking (but not too much because I really want to hear my hubby's talk) maybe I should warn her that Ziki hasn't pooped for a couple of days. Passing thought. Hubby was talking about how we have 4 boys that are still so young and how nice it is that we can feel comfortable having a place like this to just hand our kids off to people when he has to get up and speak. Next thing I know, this lady is motioning for a wipe, or two, or three. I look over and her son, who had been taking his turn holding Ziki, has poop (and not just a little, a whole bunch) all over in his lap, on the bench, and his Mom grabs Ziki who still has poop oozing out the back of his diaper so she's getting it in her lap (is that why they invented onsies? Maybe I should have put one on him). If that wasn't bad enough, this boy and his sister next to him are gagging. Their mother is trying to clean up her son because I can't (didn't want to try cleaning up his lap) and nudging them to stop gagging. I'm thinking, 'oh please don't throw up. Please don't throw up. We don't need poop and barf all over.' Well, they didn't throw up (almost, though), but they did have to get up and go home to change their clothes, and I missed most of the hubby's talk (who is oblivious to everything that is going on, by the way. He's just thinking that the huge grin on my face means I'm loving his talk. He did hear someone gagging though). I'm just glad the RS president didn't have Ziki. She had on such a beautiful dress and guess who was conducting in relief society?
Oh, Please don't throw up! Please don't throw up! I warned you.