I'd like to take a moment to relish in the following award I am giving myself:
See, unlike most normal mothers, I avoid changing the #2-type mess of diaper-related functions as much as humanly possible. There are times in which I have no choice but to attend to one, but if there's an alternative handler in the vicinity, I'll always tap out.
This, of course, comes at a price in that if I don't "do" diapers, then I must "do" something. Griff has challenged me with this theory in the past 24-hours with a stomach bug that has rolled through him, leaving no stomach content behind.
It breaks down like this:
Mother [+] Child [-] Dirty Diapers [=] Vomit Duty