I am awesome, or My Dumbassedness

The other night I had my semi-weekly diaper change scheduled. I stripped Baby down threw away his diaper, reached for the diapers on the shelf and found that Not Me hadn't replaced them, meaning I had a neck-ed Baby wiggling on a changing table and nothing to protect me from a potential stream of pee or explosion of poo. I stood Baby in his crib and prayed, please, God, don't let him pee, and sprinted into the other room, grabbed a handful of diapers and sprinted back into Baby's room.
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, I breathed upon returning to a pee and poo free room. "Baby, why is your boy part wet?" I asked. Yes, I actually said boy part, and I know I should have used the proper terminology. "Maybe you're about to pee," I answered. "I better hurry." Then I noticed the floor about three feet away from Baby's crib. The wet floor. The wet, sticky floor. "Well, kiddo, that's quite the range you've got there. Please don't point that thing at me," I told Baby and sighed.
I diapered Baby and told him never to do something like that again. I wiped up the floor and stripped the sheet from his bed. Since it was close to bedtime, I had to remake the bed. I wiped the mattress and left Baby crawling on the floor while I sprinted to find a new sheet. I was gone approximately 30 seconds. This is what I found upon my return:



Those clothes on the floor? They weren't there when I left.