AKA - The Latter Day Jesus
I’m trying in vain to put a nappy on my baby’s naked little arse, when I’m hit by a moment of inspiration. I am suddenly Archimedes sitting in a bath. I am Sir Isaac Newton rubbing his sore head after being hit with an apple. I am Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense when his wife’s wedding ring falls to the ground.
A NAPPY CHANGING MACHINE!
Why does this not already exist? Think about it. How easier would your life be if you had a simple machine that you could dip a baby in whenever they needed a fresh nappy? Something like a vacuum packing machine that specializes in baby butts. Dip them in, placing their legs in stirrups and voila! Obviously you'd need a baby to feel its full benefit, but still.
People may scoff. People may laugh. People may mock. People no doubt scoffed at Archimedes when he revealed his meat and two veg to the other people sitting in a public bath and shouted “Eureka!”. But look at him now! Okay, he’s probably a bit on the boney side, but you remember him don’t you? People will remember me in the same way. I will be lauded and held up as a bloody hero to millions of shit covered parents while they are dipping their baby in their very own Hutchins machine (obviously it should be named after its creator to cement my legacy). Maybe I could even create a premium one with three different compartments. One to clean, one to cream and one to apply the nappy. Similar to the process of making scotch eggs (where you dip your meaty egg in flour, then egg, then breadcrumbs)!
Later that day I meet up with Zsuzsa in the throbbing heart of Pest. She has Mila strapped to her and she's sleepy. So sleepy in fact, that later this evening she will give Mila a bath and forget to remove her socks.
“What do you think honey?” I ask.
“About what?” she replies.
“Getting my nappy changing machine patented?”
But there’s no conviction in her voice. No passion. I can see right through her and she’s not enthused by my nappy changing idea! I'm perplexed. Does she not recognize real genius when it’s smack-bang in front of her!? Does she not see me in my true guise? The modern day incarnation of Caractacus Potts? Does she not remember that this is the same man who once put a shelf up in our old flat, and only ruined half of the wall in the process? Where’s the confidence?
I’m disappointed. I thought she’d be all over this shit, chomping at the bit to get her hands on such a machine. After all, trying to dress Mila now is akin to putting a bow-tie on an eel. She’s a slippery little pickle who refuses to stay still and cooperate. I never realized how easy the whole nappy changing process was until our little cub decided it about time to get mobile and start moving around all over the place.
I sigh, but then I look at my beautiful, sleep deprived wife and I soften. I can’t be too harsh on her. She hasn’t slept since August! Anyway, I remember that she had a similar, initial response to my design to combine a baby’s bottle with a hamster style feeder, to go on the side of the cot. Four thousand night-time trips to the cot to offer her nipple to a screaming baby later however, and her tune has significantly changed.
“Will you hurry up and make that bloody hamster-technology inspired baby feeder!” she now says, whilst nursing her savaged nipples.
No, she’ll come around. She will be my partner in crime and my biggest supporter. In fact, maybe I’ll name it in her honour to show my gratitude to her for being my muse and for all those sleepless nights. As a selfless act I may even forget my initial plan to call it The Hutchins Machine. I’ll be like Jesus, who I hear also refused to give his name to a nappy changing machine.
In years to come, baby’s arses all over the word will be covered by…The Zsuzsa. The poor lamb’s earned it.