Thwarting Picture Day

“Oh look at you JT, you’re so cute in your little Elmo overalls.  But you have to stop chewing on the collar of that shirt; I ironed it just for your first picture day.  I didn’t even iron my own shirt this morning.  We have to look nice for pictures.”  My mom cooed this to me as she buckled me into my car seat this morning.  Wednesday, picture day.  My first one.  Big whoop.  She’d clearly gone mental and forgotten about the nine million times she’d blinded me with the flash from her camera.  
We got to school and she dropped me off.  She left me in the super cozy bouncy seat that we don’t tell Dad about because it’s pink.  Sweet.  She remembered to kiss me goodbye this morning.  My day is always so much better when I get that last kiss goodbye.  So sleepy now.  Milk tummy full.  I think I’ll just rest my eyes for…….
I opened my eyes again when I was abruptly removed from the fuzzy coziness of my warm seat and lain on the cold scratchy sheet in the cage.  It wasn’t like home where Mommy put down the soft blanket.  This felt like sandpaper.  I had just gotten used to napping the cage at school next to Jasper when I got moved.  Now I’m on the other side of the room without Jasper to keep me company.
You know, I’m kind of hungry and I’d really like to not be in here.  I think I’ll let them know.
Miss Mary Anne appeared above the cage.  “JT, no need to be so loud, we have a bottle right here, all ready for you.”
I caught a glimpse of the clock as she carried me to the rocking chair.  It was past time for Jasper to be here.  I couldn’t see him now, but I wondered what his mom made him wear for pictures.  I had seen some pretty wild outfits from Jasper, from duck butt pants and cankle socks, so I could only imagine what he’d have on for picture day.
“Psst.  Psst.  Omar. Over here.  JT.  Have you seen Jasper today?”
Omar turned his head, “Yeah he’s here, His mom dropped him off while you were in your milk coma.”
“Shut it, I’ve seen you fall asleep standing up in the jumpy seat.  Hey, your outfit looks comfortable.  Why aren’t you dressed for pictures?”
Omar smiled, “I know.  Mom’s gonna be peeved.  Dad got me dressed this morning.”
It was several minutes before JT finished eating and burping before he got to look around the room and find Jasper.
Jasper’s eyebrows popped up and he said, “Dude.  What are you wearing?”
“I know right.  Mom was awake this morning.  She put a bib on me, so I couldn’t escape with spit up.  I tried to pee, but missed and hit the cat.  Made mom laugh so hard she snorted out coffee, but that missed me too.”  I sighed looking Jasper over.  He hadn’t fared much better.  Overalls and a shirt.  Jaspers moms loved overalls.  I liked to tease him that he had to wear them because he had no butt to hold up his pants.  But he wasn’t the one wearing a muppet today.
I thought for a minute.  Mom always packed extra clothes.  I bet Jasper’s mom did too.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.  We’ll get out of these clothes into our back up comfortable clothes.  I’ve been waiting to poop since Sunday.  I’ll let it all out now but quietly so it has time to seep around before they get me.  Then when they pick me up to change me, I’ll cough til I gag and spit up on this shirt.  This collar is driving me mad.  I tried to chew it off, but no teeth.”
Jasper smiled, “sweet idea dude.  I will begin with my low key fussing that they will attempt to soothe with food.  I’ll let most of it dribble down my chin soaking my shirt and overall straps.  I’ll step up the fussing to medium racket upon which they will try to change me.  Once the diaper is off the poop is out.  I’ve been practicing my foot movements an I’m pretty sure I can get it everywhere with this left foot. “
Jasper and I smiled.  We had yet to figure out how to fist pump or high five.  We had banged elbows once but I think it was mostly coincidental.
I took a deep breath and focused on poop.  Pooping.  Filling the diaper, when suddenly I heard, “Look at JT’s face.  That’s the face of a boy pooping.  Give him a minute and check on him.”
Then I heard Jasper start to fuss.  And I needed to implement plan b.  What was plan b?  Oh yeah, spit up.  I started coughing.  Crap.  I’m wearing a bib.  Desperation.  I thought frantically while she was carrying me to the table.  My last resort is pee.  And I’m terrible at hitting a target.  She lays me down, pulls off my pants, undoes the snaps, takes off the diaper, cold air and wet……what?!  Wipe, my nethers have been covered with a wipe.  Foiled.
“Hey, Jasper’s starting to fuss so start his bottle but change him while you wait.  He hates to be wet.”
After Jasper and I were back together in our adjoining bouncy seats  I said, “This calls for a hail mary.”
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, I do not get these sports references you make.  The hat mom watches sports, but I’m always with the boob mom and she does this british stuff.  So if you have a question about romance or the monarchy I’m your dude.”
“Okay, fine, last ditch attempt.”  I tried to hide my exasperation.
“Are you sure you want to go there?  That’s pretty serious.  If we scream that loud and long, one of us is getting put in the swing of despair.  Have you seen how far away that thing is?  It’s in a different country I think.”
I took a deep breath and began.
LATER THAT DAY
“Hello, I just stopped by to see JT while I was on lunch, but I don’t see him.  Oh look there he is.  How cute is he in the swing?”