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Crying Uncle

Parenting is not for the timid as I discovered one Christmas holiday while visiting my sister in Montana. My sister and mother were looking to do a little last minute shopping, but didn't want to risk taking my niece and ruining the surprise.

"Are you ok watching Mya for a couple of hours while we go Christmas shopping?"

"No problem"

"Are you sure?"

Am I sure? Of course I'm sure. She's a 2-year old little girl. I was in desert storm, I've jumped out of airplanes, I have degrees in civil and electrical engineering. I think I can handle watching a 2-year old for a couple of hours.

Instead I say, "Go, have fun. We'll be fine."

What they didn't realize is that I had plan. Picking up my adorable pixie of a niece we bid mom and grandma goodbye and walked back down stairs.

"What we gonna do unca Wussy?"

"Wesley. . . .it's uncle Weeeessssllley"

"Uh huh, unca Wussy!"

Sigh.

"How about if we watch Snow White?"

"Yes, please!"

I'm impressed. My sister is raising a very polite little girl.

I set her down and while I commence to prepare the film she fidgets with this blanket and that pillow. Changing positions about five times in the duration it takes to get the movie started. Then the most amazing thing happens. As the film begins she is overcome with temporary paralysis. The TV has reached out and electronically snatched her brain right out of her little noggin. Ha, my plan is working!

Still congratulating myself I go into the adjoining room and begin to analyze my portfolio. This continued for approximately 10 minutes when I was suddenly and brutally knocked from my chair by the foulest stench I've smelled since the time I left a latte sealed in my coffee cup for a month.

Lurching into the living room, fully expecting to find missing weapons of mass destruction, I find only my niece who seems unaffected. The television must have paralyzed her nostrils too.

"Mya."

". . ."

"Mya, is that you?"

". . ."

"MYA! Did you mess your britches?"

Never looking away from the TV, she shakes her head no.

Hmm, "Are you lying to me?"

She nods her head yes.

Ok, there's no need to panic. I helped 30 years ago when my sister was a baby, I can do it now. First I need to find the clean diapers. I look in her room, both bathrooms, her mom's bedroom, even the kitchen. No diapers.

She's a smart kid; I bet she knows where they are. Going back downstairs I ask her where her diapers are kept.

". . ."

"MYA! Do you know where your diapers are!?"

". . ."

Now standing in front of the TV I repeat my question, "Mya! I

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