“Here we go.” She undid the tape on both sides and lifted the top of the diaper. The minute she did, his son peed in the air and she flopped the material back down.
“Good reflexes,” he said.
“That’s going to happen a lot. Be prepared. Always keep the diaper down on top of him while you get another.”
“Got it.”
She lifted Maverick’s legs in one hand and then pushed the diaper down to catch everything and keep the top folded over. Thank God. The quick glimpse he got had him covering a cough.
The diaper was pushed to the side. “Wrap it up by having the tape I left open seal it shut.”
“Ah, I’ll let you do it. You know, so I can get it right and not make a mess.”
She snorted. “We’ll let you believe that.”
Five wipes out of the bag later, his son’s butt was clean and he was proud of himself putting a fresh diaper on. See, he participated.
He could do this. He’d rather not, but he could.
“Why aren’t you putting his pants back on?”
“Do you like to sleep in jeans?”
“No,” he said.
“There you go.” She picked Maverick up who had stayed still but now hugged Jocelyn’s shoulders and laid his head down back on her shoulder as if he was snuggling in. “I’m going to put him in the playpen because it’s all we’ve got until the bed is delivered.”
“I’m tracking it. Should be here in the next few hours,” he said.
“Then it takes a day or so for the mattress to lie out fully from the box. So Maverick can sleep in this tonight.”
He hoped it would be that easy.
“Why are you walking around and not putting him down?”
Jocelyn had given Maverick his pacifier, the sucking noises filling the room.
“I want him to be sleeping before he goes down. It’d be easier if he’s not used to this,” she whispered. “Stop talking.”
He kept his lips sealed, watched as his son fell asleep, then followed Jocelyn into the spare room where she laid the toddler down as if he weighed a feather, then put his favorite blanket over him.
She backed out and shut the door but didn’t click it.
“Phew,” he said. “How long do you think he’ll sleep?”
“No clue. Hopefully, at least an hour. How are you feeling?”
“Helpless,” he said.
Which was a sucky feeling he’d hoped never to have in his life again. Guess he didn’t get that wish.
“I believe most parents feel that way. You’re getting a crash course now though.”
“Tell me about it. My grandmother will be here in the morning.”
“I thought she’d stop over tonight,” she said.
“I asked her to give us until tomorrow. Is that wrong? I’m trying not to bombard him with too many people at once.”
