You all know our cute 4-year-old, Brooke. She’s quite the character. She enjoys frequenting public restrooms. We still haven’t figured out why. Usually we will make our way in there and she will all of a sudden not have to go. Actually, the highlight of her Sunday is when, in the middle of the meeting, she tells us she has to go potty and we make Cassie take her. We are still not sure if she really does any business in the bathroom, but it has become a weekly ritual, but only after the Sacrament, you wouldn’t want to miss your weekly helping of bread and water.
So, yesterday, during our out-of-town Sacrament meeting she informed us that she needed to go. Since I was sitting on the end, (and am female) the task fell on me. When the meeting ended, we made our way out to the car and when she was seated and buckled, Brooke began kicking and writhing and holding herself. She insisted that she needed to go, and indeed did let forth a small sea. She even sang Rock Band 2 songs whilst peeing. “Hello there ladies and gentlemen…” We think she must like the acoustics (echo) in the church bathroom.
We were leery when 30 minutes later we stopped to eat (the ox was in the mire) and she said that she needed to go again…and she actually did. You won’t believe my dumb luck when halfway through our meal, she starts kicking and says she needs to go…again. She did actually go…again. Why did I take her? Well, Dane insists that men’s public restrooms are nasty, and that if I didn’t want to keep taking them, I should have had more boys (like it was really up to me.)
This is why we didn’t really want to believe her, but had to when 60 minutes into our drive she said she needed to go…AGAIN. She was kicking and writhing and telling us that she HAD to go!!! We told her that her options were going in a bush on the side of the freeway or stopping in 7 minutes at Chiriaco Summit, home of the famed General Patton Museum. She opted for the latter because she is not a bush-going girl.
However, we should have been concerned when in the midst of the kicking and writhing she finally stops and says, “I can hold it.” Let me translate. This means, I squeezed a little out, so now I feel better, but I am not going to tell you because I am embarrassed and I don’t think you’ll ever figure it out anyway.
So, as good parents do, we stopped at the 7 minute rest stop because we had about 250 miles left on the trip. When Dane went around to grab her, she yelled “Hey, but I’m gonna miss the movie!” She continued to yell things like, “But I was holding it!” and “I’m gonna hold it!” as Dane carried her into the General Patton Museum only to discover that the bathroom was being cleaned and that Brooke really did pee her pants, “just a little bit.”
You might ask why Dane took her in. Well, besides the fact that I had done the umpteen other times prior to that, I also got some new full size boots and the thought of sliding those on and off one more time in the discomfort of the front seat of a car, while wearing a dress, was not my idea of fun.
Back to our story…so we took Brooke to the Chevron across the way and I was told by Dane (while he silently cursed my name) that I needed to figure something out because the booster seat was now defiled.
Should we discuss men’s restrooms? Seriously. Are men just flat-out slobs? I mean, really, if all the urinals are being occupied, at least lift the seat up to pee, my goodness!
As Dane carried a very observant Brooke into the men’s room, she yelled, “But this is the boys’!”
Dane took her into a stall where she actually let the floods loose…again! It was Niagra Falls! After she was done, Dane began to take off her wet clothes, and, with no volume control (remember, she loves the acoustics) Brooke said:
“What are you doing?”
Dane replied: “They’re all wet.”
Not in protest but matter-of-factly, Brooke said, “Everyone’s gonna see my bum…” She obviously thought that Dane was going to take her out with nothing but her (dry) t-shirt.
The undies hit the floor and Dane started putting her sweats back on. “But they’re gonna get all dirty!” Brooke said. (Like they weren’t already!)
Dane then wrapped her wet undies in multiple paper towels.
Brooke asked “Are you gonna throw them away?”
Obviously, Dane had to wash his hands, but he couldn’t put Brooke’s bare feet on the disgusting bathroom floor, so he put the wrapped undies in his pocket.
As he was walking out the front door, he realized that there was nothing in his pocket.
See, these pants that Dane was wearing…they have a giant hole in a pocket, so the underpants wrapped in paper towels landed in the candy aisle at Chevron. They were quickly retrieved while Dane escaped to the car all the while holding Brooke’s bum away from him and his shirt.
In their absence, I took the cover off of the booster and replaced it with a baby blanket. I took a t-shirt out of the laundry pile for its new use as pants/underpants.
We instructed Brooke to place her legs through the sleeves and her siblings then laughed and told her that she looked like she was wearing a diaper. (see above picture.) Brooke giggled with them, but then an hour later, she informed us, “I taked off my diaper…”
It was a lovely rest of the way home....trust me!
