Well, this one's kind of long, but well worth it for the humor factor. It's the funniest true story I know. Y'see, I'm the #1 reason why my dad flat out refuses to change diapers. (There may be some exaggeration, considering I've only heard this story from Dad, and he does have a tendency to make a good story better.)

It all started about 25 years ago on a boilingly hot August day, when my parents discovered that putting a little bit of cereal in my bottle would knock me right out. It also had the unfortunate effect of clogging me up. Well, along came check-up time for Mom and I. I get a clean bill of health, and the doctor assured my parents that everything would come out eventually, and he gave me a little something to help it out.

So Mom went off to see her doctor, and Dad was in the waiting room bouncing me on his knee. After a little bit, he started hearing these soft "plop plop" noises. A nurse signals for Dad to look down, and he sees that my diaper is overflowing and dribbling out the leg holes. So, he goes rushing out to the car (no changing tables in the men's room, y'know), holding me at arm's length, to get me changed.

He set me out on the car seat, got the diaper popped open, gagged because... Well, it pretty much looked like I'd exploded in the diaper. Then he grabbed a baby wipe. Now, everyone knows how the magic baby wipe canister works. You grab one, and another pops up. Well, when Dad grabbed the wipe, another one didn't pop up.

So all Dad can do is look at this one little baby wipe and this whole mess of exploded baby on the car seat. There was no way that one measly baby wipe was going to take care of that mess. And then Dad spotted... The dry-cleaning!

To forestall any cries of, "He didn't!" Let me just say that he most definitely did wipe my dirty little bottom with the dry-cleaning. He got me as cleaned up as he could and clumsily diapered, and then he took me to wait in that little air-conditioned area between the electronic doors and the main office because I was still a stinky squirt.

Well, a nurse saw us and took pity on us. She took me and got me cleaned up properly and got me back to him before Mom was through with her check-up. Why Dad never asked the nurse to change me in the first place, I'll never know.

Along came Mom, and we all go back out to the car. And as soon as the door opens, we're all hit with this apalling stench. Dad forgot to clean up the mess, and it'd had time to bake in the hot car. Poor Dad did the only thing any sane man could do when faced with that hideous odor and the angry glare of his wife.

He threw up.