This morning’s Desitin Disaster reminded me of the Poopocalypse, and although it was less disgusting, it was infinitely more difficult to clean up. I can barely clean Desitin off of my hands after using it properly, but this morning’s debacle has left us smelling like Desitin, despite multiples baths and showers.
These stories begin as they always do for me: I’m completed packed and ready to start loading the kids, when disaster strikes.
I shut the trunk of my car and walk inside to put the finishing touches on the kids before packing everyone in the car. The silence alone should have alerted me that something was very wrong.
I notice baby V’s door is open, and I walk in to find all three girls in the crib. The twins are completely naked, and covered in Desitin. They move just enough for me to see the littlest one, and they have painted her with diaper cream as well. I laughed for a second, and then grabbed my phone, of course, to take some pictures.
Upon inspection, I realized I wasn’t going to be able to clean them up in time for yoga, so I called to reschedule for an hour later. I told the girls we needed to take a bath, and the twins hopped down from the crib and proceeded to smear Desitin on their war path to the bathroom. Poor baby V had the worst of it, and her hair was caked with it like a hair mask!
Getting the Desitin off of their bodies was easy, but getting it out of their hair was almost impossible. It took a bar of soap, a wash cloth, and my sheer determination to scrub the majority of it out. By this point I am completely covered in diaper cream, sweating profusely, and wondering if I’ll ever make it to yoga. I honestly didn’t care that they were covered. I didn’t care about the cream smeared couch. I didn’t care that the smell of Desitin would haunt my house for days. The only thing I cared about was getting some me-time because I’d pretty much already worked out.
Let me tell you, that was one of the best yoga classes I’ve had, and it was well earned.
Jacqueline Pinchuk 