In all seriousness (perhaps), I share something that I have learned in my first week. Bathe the baby before you bathe yourself. I learned this when Lil' Bit pulled the hat trick on me during bath time.
I had just showered, and now it was Lil' Bit's turn for a wash. As the wife was getting soap and a wash cloth, I was tasked with undressing our little one. She took this opportunity to turn her head and spit up on my arm. OK. That's fine.
Now undressed, as the wife gets the bath water to proper temperature, I feel something warm running down my side. Our beautiful daughter (inspired by the running water) had peed on me. Shirt and pants are now urine soaked, but I'm cool with it. Let's get this tot washed.
Bath time continues. We wash her. I sit down to set her on my lap and wash her back. PPPLLPPT! A nice warm deucer on my leg. Trifecta. Lil' Bit had officially protested this washing with all three holes. My girl is an achiever.
Let this be a lesson, daddy.
And this goes to the main lesson I've learned in my first week. Poop happens, and it's going to happen. on you. I have lived on this planet for 33 years, and no one has ever pooped on me. In one week of parenthood, I've been pooped on at least a dozen times. That's more than once a day. There is no way to avoid it, but as a parent, eventually you'll be pooped on. Not every time you change a diaper, and probably not as often as my bad time has let me. The Wife has nowhere near the stats that I do, but she's gotten a couple.
And just when I thought I had it figured out, Lil' Bit changes the game. Last night, I heard the juicy bugle that sounds from a big mess being made. I waited. It sounded again, but I'm no fool. I know what's up. I waited a couple more minutes. A third time. OK, let's move on in. I get her diaper off, clean her little butt, and BOOM! She projectile shits all over me, the sheets, and the floor.
It is at this point that I must apologize for the crassness of the previous sentence. However, I can't classify this as a mere poop. When it is in the diaper, it's a poop. When it shoots (SHOOTS) two and a half feet from her little rear and covers your arm, it is shit. And that's what she did to Daddy.
And all I can do is clean it up, laugh it off, and commit it to the internet to embarrass her later in life.
I love my wife more than anyone on this planet, but if she were to ever crap on me, I'd divorce her tomorrow. But this little girl gets a pass. For now. I guess it's all just part of being a dad.