DiaperFail '09

I don't ask a lot of diapers. They have one job. Granted, it's not a glamorous one, but it's fairly well-defined. I'm doing my part here in terms of applying the thing to the correct body part. Adelina is surely doing hers. All I ask of this little piece of paper and plastic and whatever else it's made of is that it catch what it's designed to catch.Imagine my surprise then to discover that one little diaper had decided to take a smoke break when it was needed most. I don't even know how what happened here is physically possible. Somehow the stuff intended for the diaper bypassed it completely and shot straight up my baby's leg. A onesie and a pair of pants are completely ruined while that little diaper remains a pristine, unsullied white.I hope it's happy.The whole event was disturbing not only to me but to Adelina, who, despite being incapable of any kind of abstract reasoning, still understood on some basic level that someone or something had failed her. She was inconsolable. After the rather complex haz-mat clean up session, I had to spend half an hour waltzing around the living room to Strauss with her.Now, I eyeball every diaper with distrust. You can't win that back. The trust is gone. Gone.