So yesterday, we chose our pew to sit in for Sacrament meeting up really close. Frankly we were grateful to get a pew at all, because in our ward if you don't get there by 10 till, you have to sit on the folding chairs in the far back.
Yesterday the service was extra crowded because it was our Primary Program day. Basically that's the one Sunday every year that the children's organization runs the service. All the children say a small part, and there's lots and lots of singing. SO it was extra crowded with lots and lots of grandparents and people who invite their neighbors and what not.
We ended up in the front corner, almost the front row.
As it turns out, I was in the exact same seat that the unnamed daughter was seated in during last week's incident.
So as the program got underway, The Brain leaned over to me and asked, "Do you smell something?"
And yes, in fact I had begun to smell the recognizable odor of a dirty diaper. Now, I'm no dirty diaper newbie or anything. Hey, I think 4 kids moved me into the expert category a long time ago. So - - whatever. I can take it until they leave with the kid to change him, right?
You'd think that even if it didn't bother the (single) dad, it would have bothered the kid, but you'd be wrong. Apparently we were sitting behind the original Buns Of Steele kid, who never even indicated any discomfort whatsoever.
But I am not kidding you, that stench got stronger and stronger. About 10 minutes later, The Brain leaned over to say "I don't think I can stay here."
To which I replied, " You have to just DEAL with it. Remember? We're the Nazi parents who, only one week ago, lectured our daughter until she cried, because she left this very bench in the middle of a service."
And so, Karma won again. We were never so glad for a meeting to be over in our lives.
And just FYI - If your baby has a dirty diaper, and you think maybe if you ignore it then nobody else will smell it either, You Are Wrong.