“Let’s go to the bathroom first” are most mothers famous last words. Well, they’re mine, anyway.
There are not enough numbers in the world to count the amount of times I have been asked, begged, or yelled at by my children throughout their lifetimes that they absolutely HAVETOGOTOTHEBATHROOMRIGHTNOW and NOICAN’THOLDIT!! I tell them that I don’t negotiate with potty terrorists, but if they beg and plead and lock their knees together while doing a funny little dance for long enough, I have been known to cave and take them. Begrudgingly.
While frustrating and at times tedious, what with all the buttons and zippers and stall sizes and toilet heights, these trips usually go off without a hitch. But if I say that I have to go? I have just unknowingly started a chain of events that ends in my demise by embarrassment. I know this each and every time the situation arises, but what can I say- my bladder just isn’t what it used to be. When I gotta go, I gotta GO! I’ve yet to pee myself, but there’s always that little voice in the back of my head saying “you push two kids outta your vag, do you really think your lower parts fully recovered from that? Just try to hold it!” There are many occasions in which I will accept the challenge… but I’ve already crapped myself in public- I really don’t want to add peeing to that list.
I guess my first decently made pumpkin latte of the pumpkin season (which is what it SHOULD be called instead of “fall”) excited me a bit too much because I pounded the first half of that bitch like it was my job. Shortly thereafter, the urge to pee arrived. Shortly after that, we arrived at Toys R Us. WHY, GOD, WHY would I ever go there? Usually I avoid it like the plague, but it’s Parker’s birthday and I’d promised to take him so that he could spend $20 he was given on anything he wants. Of course he was never going to let me forget about that.
When I said the words “Hey, let’s go to the bathroom first!” I expected the kid to put up a fight. How dare I delay his toy shopping? Instead I got a rare and delightful “okay!” This should have been a red flag. We walked together into the bathoom, got into a stall, and very quickly I was faced with a slight dilemma. What was I going to do with my decently made pumpkin spiced coffee?? There’s a hook for purses, but there’s no frickin’ coffee cup holder in there. If you think I am going to put my beloved coffee on the floor of a bathroom that tiny toilet missing humans frequent, you are gross and drink pee.
Then it clicks. Well, DUH! Parker is right here! Parker can hold my coffee! It’s only half full and it’s not scalding hot anymore, so spillage is unlikely to happen and if it does, he won’t resent me and swear off anything pumpkin flavored for the rest of his life. Again, he happily obliges. ANOTHER red flag. Did I see it that way at the time? Psshhhhh no. I just wanted to pee and not to get peepee germs in my coffee!
He looked so curious and sad, standing there holding my paper coffee cup with the annoying plastic lid that has one teensy hole with with to consume your beverage through that always takes 3 tries to find with your mouth or tongue every time you lift it to have a sip without looking (which is pretty much every time.) At home, I’ll usually give him what we call a “finger dip.” I dip MY finger, NOT HIS (barf!) into my coffee and pop it in his mouth. Don’t cringe! I made him with my vagina! A little finger dip ain’t gonna hurt him! I keep my hands clean!
Somewhere in between the time I’d sat down to passing him my coffee, someone else had entered the bathroom. Red Flag #3. Not because I’m pee shy anymore- but we all know that children only embarrass us when others are around to embarrass us in front of. Am I right, or am I right?
Being that I was peeing and the coffee currently had the infernal plastic lid atop it, the finger dip wasn’t going to cut it. I asked him if he’d like to try a little, and of course, he nodded. It was clear after the first three attempts that he could not find the opening. Why he didn’t just LOOK at the lid and THEN give it a go, I don’t know. He’s 4. 4 year olds don’t make a hell of a lot of sense.
Now, imagine you are this mystery person who just happened to walk into the bathroom after us. Imagine you have not heard any of our prior conversation, and did not see WHO was in the stall that the following conversation came from:
– You’re not licking the right spot at all
– But I can’t find it!
– You have to lick the hole. Not above it. You’re not even close!
*10 seconds of silence*
– No, that’s still not it. Look at it- it’s easy to find the hole so that you can lick it
– See? It’s good, isn’t it? Not so hard to find the hole after all.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone pee so fast and bolt from a bathroom as the unsuspecting stranger who walked in on us did.
How many times have YOU walked in on a conversation at the exact wrong moment to make it sound awful or sexual or like someone is plotting a murder? The “It’s not what it looks like/not what it sounds like!” situation is one that has ended many relationships- ALL because of walking in at the exact wrong time to make it look or sound like something completely different. I know this. You know this. We’ve all experienced it, But a BATHROOM??? Of all places to be talking about licking a hole, a BATHROOM?! In a kids TOY STORE? COME ON!
Bad things always happen to me when I have to go to the bathroom with a kid tagging along. That is nearly the ONLY place these things happen! I think I’ll just stop going. What? Evolution occurs every day! Can’t I just photosynthesize my waste? It’s either that, or we’re all going to have to start strapping on adult diapers before leaving the house. The padding would be nice, but just imagine the horrific panty-lines!
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
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Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.