3 out of the last 4 nights that I’ve been in charge of Danger, he’s been wet* by 7am. I am reasonably diligent, when I give him his 11pm/2am/5am bottles, I have a feel around to make sure he’s not wet but I don’t tend to change his nappy if he isn’t at the very least damp.
Of course what this means is little Danger is generating enough wee to unleash a torrent of it when he’s fast asleep at around 5.30ish, which in one foul swoop soaks what little absorbency is left in his size 3 nappy and then spreads out in a pool of warm, comforting, yellow all around him. It stays warm enough for an hour or so and then he gradually begins to wake up, realising he is in fact wetter than the boy or Fifi are during the middle of their weekly swimming lessons.
I’ve never quite managed to suss the train of logic my sleep deprived and addled brain comes up with in the middle of the night that makes not changing his nappy a really good idea. Perhaps I should write down my thought process one of these nights and open myself to ridicule in the morning.
Meanwhile, Danger will be swimming again tonight.
*nearly floating in one instance. Who’d have guessed the moses basket was so watertight?