This week has been interesting in the bathroom department. More than usual. On Friday I took my 3 little ones to the mall. It's not too far away, and I love going there because there is a little play area with lots of germy things to climb on. I usually get a coffee and let the kiddies run like wild animals through the Serengeti.
Like I said, we headed to the mall Friday because I needed to buy spring jackets for the girls. We got going right away. I swung through McDonald's and got my usual coffee, but upgraded to a large because I was already wiped and it was only 9 am. So we arrived at the mall and I got us settled in the play area because the mall stores weren't open yet. I was thoroughly enjoying my latte and the peacefulness of children letting off steam.
After about 20 minutes, I could feel the coffee "getting the pipes movin" if you know what I mean. I barely got the kid's shoes on, when it became apparent that this was an urgent situation. Brielle starts yelling that she has to pee too, and at this point I was gripping the strap of my purse, and starting to sweat. If you have ever tried to get 3 small children moving in any direction at a quick pace, believe me-it's like herding turtles.
Turtles that scatter.
We finally get into the family bathroom..the big kind with both the kid toilet and the adult size toilet, and I frantically lock the door and race to the toilet, ripping down my pants. Brielle gets on the kid potty, and we both let it fly. My pants are around my ankles, I've got the raging, burning trots, and in sloooow motion, Mickey looks at me, then opens the bathroom door. There I am, sweaty, gripping the handicapped handles, pants around my ankles, and there is a group of grey haired mall walkers and moms with strollers right there. In absolute shock. I stuff a bunch of tp between my legs and quick as I can, hobble to the door, knocking over Emily, who starts to scream. Mike is trying to escape, and Brielle, who was trying to see out the door, has slipped her hand into her potty chair.
I'll just "cut" at that.
What a fantastic time that was.
Sunday was better.
Me and the hubs took the 4 youngest to the local parade of homes. You can walk through new houses and get building ideas. Anyway, we were only 3 homes in, and like usual, I had had one of my favorite lattes. This time, I really needed to pee. Like you know, I have 6 babies. You just can't ignore mother nature anymore when she calls after 6 kids. I was on the verge of an accident. I was in pain. Pain. I was frantically looking for a gas station, gravel road, portapotty, anything. We were in the middle of nowhere, but there were houses around. Finally, we got to the address of the house we were going to look at and I had a lightbulb moment...my husband's coffee cup was empty! I asked my husband to go on in without me and I scrambled to the backseat of our Yukon, just about losing my questionable grip on my poor weak bladder.
There were vehicles around, so I discreetly pulled down my pants, and just as I did so, it let go. I barely caught the thunderous flood in the cup. Ahhh.
Ahhh.
Ahhh! Yes!
Ahhhhhh.....OHDAMMITSHITTHECUPSNOTBIGENOUGH!!!!
You know the scene in Dumb and Dumber where the guy keeps filling beer bottles?
That was me.
Except I only had 1 cup.
But I had a scarf!
I peed on my scarf. My lovely blue soft scarf.
The scarf I wear all the time.
I defiled my lovely scarf, and splattered coffee-smelling pee all over the door, my pants and the seat. Thank heaven for leather seats, and baby wipes, and tinted windows. Even though the realtor of the house was right in front of me, futzing with something in the back of her suv, she was oblivious to my obscenity.Again, "end scene."
I'm totally comfortable never again repeating those events.
Ever.
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