Potty Mouth

You are not going to believe this, coming so soon after my post about the Mickey Poop. But it's true. . .sad, but true. . .

Yesterday afternoon we loaded the car with all our overdue videos, books, magazines and headed to the library to return them and see if they had any books in that my book-devouring daughter had not yet read. And it was really, really hot. And grotesquely humid. And Little Guy had not yet had a nap. And he was extremely tired. And frighteningly grumpy.

So I hoped to kill two birds with one stone--accomplish previously mentioned library goals and have Little Guy fall into a sleep stupor.

And I thought he was well on his way to sleep when I got him out of the car and put him into the stroller. Glazed eyes, floppy limbs--oh yeah, this plan is working, I think to myself.

We return our books and stroll around the library, enjoying the frigid temperature and the near-absolute quiet. (Sort of what I imagine heaven to be like, except maybe without the homeless people lounging about like they own the place.) Little Guy's head begins to lean to one side, a sure sign that nap is forthcoming.

And then we have to look up an author of a book series on the computer, so I plop down next to a half-crazy looking lady, parking Little Guy behind me, facing her direction. He then decides to pop out of his trance and communicate. "WOBBUFFET!" he says loudly to the lady. I guess he wants to talk with her about Pokemon characters.

So of course, the lady replies in a growly voice "WOBBUFFET!" and then leans over and repeats it very seriously, right into his little face. Aha! Another Pokemon fan!

Surprisingly, Little Guy did not burst into tears, but he knew that he needed to get out of there FAST so he utilized his resource most likely to remove him rapidly from the situation.

"I NEED TO GO PEEEEE PEEEEE!!!" he shouts loudly, shattering the church-like quiet of the library. I notice heads swiveling towards us from all over the library, mouths dropping open, and librarians cringing in horror. More egregious than the proclamation itself is the volume of his statement. Librarians really do not like small children very much, nor do they like loud noises.

I want to disappear or at the very least, flee the library immediately but I know that since he is wearing "big boy" pants (also known as Diego underwear), I cannot take a chance by calling his bluff. So we gather up our 3 bags of DVD's and every Encyclopedia Brown book the library has in stock, and rush to the nearest bathroom.

Luckily, the nearest bathroom is the so-called Children's Restroom. But why, oh why, if this is the "Children's Restroom", does the potty need to be so tall? Little Guy has decided he MUST PEE STANDING UP, not sitting down. And this usually is fine, since we usually never leave home, where we have numerous step stools which allow him to be high enough to do his business.

Thinking fast, in a single motion I pick him up out of the stroller, pull down his pants and hold him ABOVE THE TOILET, hoping he will not be too terrified or freaked out to pee. Somehow he manages to do his thing and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Another disaster averted. I feel like SUPERMOM!