Disclaimer #2: I don't care.
We have all been there. If you say you haven't, then you are a filthy liar. Everyone knows that familiar gurgle. You need a toilet ASAP, and the closest one is 15,400 miles away. You think to yourself, "No....not right now....I do NOT need to go to the bathroom."
Crap.
Yes I do.
You take a gamble and let a little fart squeeze out. But, to your dismay, that ain't gas that just came out of your butthole.
It was FINALLY sunny and warm here in SA after several gloomy, rainy days. Nothing in this world is more fun than being cooped up by yourself for consecutive days with three kids - said no parent EVER. So, after therapy this afternoon, we were ready to scamper off to the neighborhood park for some much needed Vitamin D.
Navigating Aubrey and Claire on the play equipment takes all of my energy, arm strength, and it leaves about .01% attention on Luke. So, when he yelled out that he was peeing behind a tree, I didn't think anything of it....until he didn't come out right away. He called out a second time, and I could hear the panic in his voice.
"Mom. Help me. It's poop."
Oh shit.
Our neighborhood park does NOT have a bathroom.
"No it's not poop. Hold it in, and we're going to run home," I yelled from the slide as grabbed the girls and ran toward him.
"Ok, mom...." he said, grabbing my hand.
Suddenly, my hand was unexpectedly warm, and it was not just because Luke's hand was clammy from the impending GI doom.
"When I said, 'Hold it in', I did not LITERALLY MEAN WITH YOUR HAND!!" I cried. It was supposed to be just a short walk, so there was no diaper bag, and there were no random wipes hiding under the wheelchair. Am I new?!?! Any parent knows better than that.
Luke waddled home, Claire laughed because for once, the poop-tastrophie wasn't her fault, and I found some bleach and a beer. We got cleaned up, and tried that trip again.
Sometimes on a Monday you gamble and win. Sometimes you gamble and lose.
Today, Luke gambled on a fart....and lost.
No comments:
Post a Comment