Go The F☆ck To Sleep ~ Bedtime Stories for the Outsiders Insomniacs

~Dallas and Emma~ Part 2

Dally changes a diaper

"It's your turn" you say holding baby Emma up in the air towards Dallas. The smell emanating from her diaper makes you turn your head and gag a little. Dally raises an eyebrow at you with a small squint. You've seen that look before. It's the same look he gives a Soc before he jumps him.

"How is it my turn?" He asks with his intimidating greaser look.

"Dallas" you sigh. "I've been up all night. My nipples are cracked. My boobs are sore. I have hemorrhoids the size of.." He holds a hand up and backs off.

"Alright, alright! Jesus, I'll change the kid's diaper." You smile and pass her over, knowing that she just finished off a jar of creamed peas. You know he's never going to recover from this one but you're tired and sore and it's his damn turn.

Dally holds Emma like a football in the crook of his arm and kneels down on the floor, spreading out the plastic mat and pulling the diaper bag over. He carefully places her down, remembering to be careful with her head and you can see from the look in his eyes that this hardened hood is still half terrified of her. Emma's feet kick into the air and she balls up her fist and sucks on the tiny dimples that are her knuckles.

"Ok, Emma Cade" he talks to her softly. "Daddy's turn to change your shitty diaper."

"Dal" you warn about the language, ignoring the fact that he's dropped the last part of Emma Cadence's middle name for the thousandth time. You might as well have just agreed to Emma Cade in the first place. He holds a hand up, admitting his slip.

"Right. I got it." He looks back down at her. "Daddy's turn to change you, baby girl." He unsnaps the onesie and pulls it out of the way, then un-tapes the diaper. His face immediately turns a deep shade of red and an ungodly sound gurgles up from his stomach. "MOTHER FUCKER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU FEEDING THIS KID?!" You cover your mouth and continue watching your soaps.

"Sweet peas" you let him know.

"Fuck you, there ain't nothin' sweet about what's in this kid's pants!"

"Dally" you warn again. "Language. Come on now. She's going to start learning these words soon." He turns his head to the side and dry heaves and you can see his eyes watering. You laugh again.

"I know. Sorry" he says holding a fist to his mouth. "I just" he heaves again. "It's all up her back."

"That's the breastmilk. It makes it kind of runny. Come on now, we've been through this. You should be a pro by now." He looks up at the ceiling and sucks in a breath mumbling to himself.

"Come on, man. You could slit a guy's throat in a rumble and not flinch for God's sake. You can do this."

"Do you need help?" you ask, starting to feel bad about his struggle. It really is rancid this time. Emma squeals at her daddy and kicks her feet happily and his face melts.

"No" he smiles down at her defeatedly. "Emma and I are gonna duke this one out ourselves. Right baby doll?" She coo's and he nods his head. "Yeah." He pulls her ankles together and gently lifts her hips off the floor, sliding the diaper away from her and placing another one underneath, he wipes the poo off her bottom and back and then freezes with her legs still in the air.

"Wait, I...." He rolls her side to side a little peeking at the poop covered shirt under her shoulders. "How am I supposed to put her back down without getting shit all over....poop all over her again?"

"You have to take the onesie off." He drops a hand on the mat.

"But it's all over the place. How am I supposed to pull it off of her without getting it all over her again? I only got two hands" he groans, completely frustrated.