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The Correct Phrase Is, "My CUP Runneth Over"

So we visited another new church on
Sunday, this one a small new mission church currently meeting in an
elementary school auditorium. We sat in the back as we always do so
we can sneak out with a baby if need be, and boy is it a good thing
we did.

We were perhaps fifteen minutes into the service and had reached
the point at which the entire congregation reads a psalm together.
This Sunday it was the famous 23rd Psalm, “The Lord Is My
Shepherd”. We were a few short steps away from the sermon,
which is usually my cue to take Maddie to the nursery. Both girls
had been in a good mood all morning, and I was thinking that this
two-kid thing was getting easier.

Maybe two lines into the psalm I heard Brian, who was holding Cora,
say next to me, “Are you KIDDING me?” Being reasonably
certain this was not even a loose interpretation of scripture, I
looked over at him in time to catch a sight I’ll never forget
– Cora, sitting facing him on his lap, smiling happily at him
as a veritable fountain of pee streams onto Brian’s lap and
trickles merrily to the floor.

Apparently we were going to head to the nursery a little early.

Brian had the sense of mind to hold Cora a
bit away from him and simply let her, um, finish. The two of us
stared in disbelief at the most decidedly NOT holy puddle on the
floor for a frozen moment before I snapped out of it and sprang
into action. Frantically digging through the diaper bag, I began
that prayer which every mommy has said at one time or another:
“Dear Lord, please make this diaper bag fully stocked, with
lots of diapers and burp cloths and spare clothing that fits, and I
swear I will never again leave the house without checking it

I quickly discovered that God had given me both a “Yes”
and a “Not so much”. While I had plenty of diapers,
they were one size too small from what Cora’s currently
wearing. And though I did have a spare sleeper outfit in the right
size (thank you, God), there was nary a burp cloth or rag or any
kind of wipe-up cloth to be found. I briefly contemplated using one
of the too-small diapers to clean up the puddle, but decided it
would attract WAY more attention than we wanted, plus I had no idea
how many diapers we’d need before this whole Keystone Cops
routine was over, so I ended up with the good old wipes. While
Brian held a slightly soggy Cora in one arm, he grimly mopped the
floor with the other; I kept Maddie away from the puddle
(“Did Cora pee on the floor? Why?”) and the flow of
wipes constant.

I was immensely thankful that we were in the back row, and that we
were in an auditorium with linoleum floors rather than a carpeted
sanctuary. I noticed the ushers standing in the back were beginning
to look at us curiously: Who are these newcomers, and why are they
washing our floors for us? Is this a
Jesus-washing-the-feet-of-the-disciples thing? I turned and smiled
at them with what I hoped was a mixture of cheerfulness, piety, and
please-don’t-come-over-here, then turned back to the task at

After hurrying both girls out of the service (Maddie: “Are we
leaving before the sermon starts? Why? Is it because Cora peed?
Why?”) we finally made it to the relative security of the
nursery, where I immediately set out to change Cora’s diaper
and figure out why that diaper, er, runneth over so much.
I’ve always had good luck with both girls and diapers, and
Cora’s never even leaked a little bit other than in the
morning after a full night of pottying, much less this huge
fountain she’d released.

I quickly found the explanation: for whatever reason, neither of
Cora’s tabs were fastened. Yep, both Velcro pieces were
completely loose and flapping in the breeze, and if it hadn’t
been for Cora’s tights and bloomers her diaper would have
fallen off a long time ago.

Honestly, I have no idea what happened. I got her dressed that
morning, and I’m reasonably certain that’s not the sort
of thing I’d forget to do. My best guess, Cora got her hands
in that diaper as I was pulling on her tights, or something of that
ilk: she loves fiddling with those Velcro tabs.

Whatever the explanation, Cora left the service in a pretty spring
dress and returned in a stained sleeper onesie. At least it
wasn’t footed pajamas.

And you can bet your life that my diaper bag’s had a thorough
spring cleaning.


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