Why Parenting Today Feels Like a Luxury Getaway
Modern parents have it good—automatic diaper pails, disposable diapers that smell like baby powder, color-changing wetness indicators. My mom had none of that. She had a porcelain toilet, a bucket, and nerves tougher than steel.
I can still see her standing there, elbow-deep in toilet water, calmly rinsing a diaper as if she were washing paintbrushes. No gagging. No complaints. And then came that sound—the unmistakable, squishy squeeze as she wrung it out. A noise permanently etched into my brain.
The Infamous Diaper Pail
Anyone raised around cloth diapers remembers the pail. It sat quietly in the laundry room, sealed shut like a biological weapon. Opening it required courage, strategy, and possibly a backup plan.
Once, my cousin dared my brother to peek inside. He cracked the lid open an inch, recoiled instantly, and fled outside for the rest of the day. That event lives on in family lore as “The Pail Incident of ’94.”
