We all know that public bathrooms are a trial for me. I am able to avoid them almost always, but my 3 year old is a different story. Darby loves public bathrooms. And she pees a lot. This is why I keep a potty-chair in the car at all times. I know it sounds crazy, but it is actually brilliant. However, I am not willing to take Darby out of Sacrament meeting to have her pee in the car. We Mormons are notorious stragglers and I don’t want the reputation which is sure to ensue after one fashionably late person sees my baby peeing in the car in the parking lot.
So, Sunday was our Easter program at church. It was really beautiful with gorgeous music and my gorgeous gal Alisha giving a powerful talk. After the talk, Darby had to go potty, so I reluctantly took her to the bathroom. I know the bathrooms are cleaned every Saturday, but I’ve been one of the volunteers to clean the bathroom on a Saturday and so I know first-hand that our methods leave something to be desired.
I have a strict Darby-in-a-Public-Bathroom Policy. It is this: DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING. So, ever obedient Darby (ha ha) held my hands with both of her hands as she scooted herself back on the massive toilet. She looked down to make sure her stream was making it in the bowl. I looked down at her because she took one of her hands from mine and was rubbing her head, as though it was hurting. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
It was wet.
“Lick my head.” Those where her real words. I replied with a question; “Why?” She replied with the worst words she could have uttered in that particular situation. “Because potty got on it.”
That’s right, people. Potty splashed up out of a public toilet and onto my daughter’s head, which head I then kissed. With my lips. Potty.
I think that in the future, I’ll opt for the reputation of the weirdo at church who makes her kid pee in the car. It is better than the alternative.
So, what’s up with you?
So, Sunday was our Easter program at church. It was really beautiful with gorgeous music and my gorgeous gal Alisha giving a powerful talk. After the talk, Darby had to go potty, so I reluctantly took her to the bathroom. I know the bathrooms are cleaned every Saturday, but I’ve been one of the volunteers to clean the bathroom on a Saturday and so I know first-hand that our methods leave something to be desired.
I have a strict Darby-in-a-Public-Bathroom Policy. It is this: DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING. So, ever obedient Darby (ha ha) held my hands with both of her hands as she scooted herself back on the massive toilet. She looked down to make sure her stream was making it in the bowl. I looked down at her because she took one of her hands from mine and was rubbing her head, as though it was hurting. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
It was wet.
“Lick my head.” Those where her real words. I replied with a question; “Why?” She replied with the worst words she could have uttered in that particular situation. “Because potty got on it.”
That’s right, people. Potty splashed up out of a public toilet and onto my daughter’s head, which head I then kissed. With my lips. Potty.
I think that in the future, I’ll opt for the reputation of the weirdo at church who makes her kid pee in the car. It is better than the alternative.
So, what’s up with you?
Yuck! I amnot looking forward to taking Montanna into public restrooms. The ones at the church don't bother me as much as a convenience store or Walmart. Although, I have found that the bathrooms in the back of Walmart are much cleaner than the ones at the front of the store.
ReplyDeleteOh that is so hilarious! I shuddered and laughed at the same time!
ReplyDeleteWhy does that not surprise me? And that you JUST kissed her!! It's the bugs in the broccoli all over again.
ReplyDeleteOh, I have a good one for you. Today, I was told that one of our 9 year old scouts is just getting over meningitis so he doesn't come often. Um, he can never come again and that would be fine with me!
He probably caught the meningitis from a church bathroom stall. We all know how filthy those things are.
Darby was sent here to cure your OCD with her love of dog poop and her own urine =)
ReplyDeleteI told mom about that and she died laughing. Dad shuddered and looked astounded. He has a little OCD I think, so at least you come by it honestly.