Public Restroom

Being a mom is a wonderful thing. Don’t you love when your kids announce things before their time or get there stories mixed up. I am grateful to be a mom, and although I haven’t had this EVER happen to me I know it could. Happy Mothers Day!

(Stolen from my cute friend Tammy’s blog)

3-year-old tells all from his mother’s restroom stall.
By Shannon Popkin

 

My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. He loves to communicate and does it quite well. He talks to people constantly, whether we’re in the library, the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often comment on how clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to ask him to turn up the volume. It’s always fully cranked. There’ve been several embarrassing times that I’ve wished the meaning of hiswords would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have Iwished this more than last week at Costco.
Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade withme into the restroom. If you ‘d been one of the ladies in the restroom that evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the last stall:
‘Mommy, are you gonna go potty? Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paperon the potty, Mommy? Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now? Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?’ At this point I started mentally counting how many women had been inthe bathroom when I walked in. Several stalls were full .. 4? 5? Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my debut out of this stall and reveal my identity.
Cade continued, ‘Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren’t you? Oh, dats agood girl, Mommy! Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty? Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh . Mommy! I’m trying to see in dere. Oh! I see dem. Dat is a very good girl, Mommy. You are gonnaget some candy!’

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from t he stalls on either side ofme. Where is a screaming new born when you need her? Good grief. This was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time beforeexiting.

Trying to divert him, I said, ‘Why don’t you look in Mommy’s purseand see if you can find some candy. We’ll both have some!’ ‘No, I’m trying to see doze more stinkies. Oh! Mommy!’ He started to gag at this point.’Uh oh, Mommy. I fink I’m gonna frow up. Mommy, doze stinkies are makingme frow up!! Dat is so gross!!’

As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall. I quickly flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject. I began to reason with myself: OK. There are four other toilets. If I count four flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those w ho overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

‘Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want you to be done goingstinkies! Get up! Get up!’ He grunted as he tried to pull me off. Now I could hear full-blown laughter. I bent down to count the feet outside my door.

‘Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy? You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at, Mommy? You wooking at the wady’s feet?’ More laughter. I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess the situation.

‘Mommy, it’s time to wash our hands, now. We have to go out now, Mommy.’ He started pounding on the door. ‘Mommy, don’t you want to wash your hands? I want to go out!!’

I saw that my ‘wait ’em out’ plan was unraveling. I sheepishly openedthe door, and found standing outside my stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all smiling and starting to applaud. My first thought was complete emabara ss ment, then I thought, ‘Where’s the fineprint on the ‘motherhood contract’ where I signed away every bit of my dignity and privacy?’ But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands, I thought,I’d sign it all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow. (Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three. She lives with her family in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she no longer uses public restrooms)

Advertisements

3 Responses to “Public Restroom”

  1. Haaaaaaa been there! Bastian is that little boy! Thanks for the laugh…it’s fun to be on this side of the story for a change!

  2. Hey Em,

    Cute blog. That story was totally my Marley! And it has definitely given me the caution to NEVER, if possible, use a public restroom myself is she’s with me.

  3. That is funny, the other day my nephew announced to my sister-in-law, “Mom, I know you’re gay’ because his brother had told him if you marry a boy you are gay. So he figured if mom is married to a boy she must be gay. Aren’t kids funny!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: