Depends.

Peter bought a crate full of Pampers from Sam's Club (which I will forever say that I hate but still buy their diapers - so. much. cheaper.) So Peter puts them all up, and we literally had diapers coming out of our EARS.

And I neglect to put any in the diaper bag and drive to East Memphrica for my yearly physical with Kito (Elekito), and OF COURSE he immediately takes a fat dump as soon as we pass through the doors and he thinks, "hmm.... mama is retarded.... i bet she doesn't have *grunt* any *grunt* diapers" *grunt followed by caustic stench*

And the doctor has to do the whole physical with stink-butt right in his face until he can't possibly take it one more second and finally says, "Um, what's the deal? You don't have a diaper?" Translate: How can you possibly ignore this mind-blowing smell that you have subjected me to against my will? I will force you to make it go away. You sick f*ck.

So I literally had no choice but to TAPE a diaper made for an 85-year-old onto my child's tiny yet filthy ass. Oh, the shame. Elek wrapped in medical tape and Depends.
I couldn't stop shaking my head and Elek was waddling like a pregnant woman (he is FAR PAST the waddling stage) and so I shake my head and say "Indeed." to which Elek replies:

"In-doo-doo-bedeeeee"

Indubitably.