Funny stories on parenthood...

So, my sister-in-law was asking me the other day if my kids have "the gift". This gift she's talking about is what she calls "potty radar". As she put it, "They can be completely content, and then the minute, no the second that I plant my fanny on that toilet seat, I hear "Mo-om!!" Happens every time! They want to sit there and have a conversation with you, and keep pounding on the door, and asking you what's taking SO LONG!! So, this conversation with my sister-in-law reminded me of a funny story that a friend emailed me a year or so ago. I've decided to post it on my blog because it was so funny, that I had tears running down my face (although it seems that the dads don't seem to find as much humor in it as moms do--I guess because we've been there). But I also found another hilarious story for the dads out there, on one of my friends blogs (from one of their friends). I'm sure anyone with kids can relate. So, enjoy a good laugh! :)

A 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 his words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this more than last week at Costco.

Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade with me 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 paper on 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 in the 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 a good 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 gonna get some candy!" I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me. Where is a screaming newborn when you need her? Good grief. This was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time before exiting. Trying to divert him, I said, "Why don't you look in Mommy's purse and 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 making me 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 who overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

"Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want you to be done going stinkies! 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. As I sheepishly opened the door, and found an open sink, I thought, Where's the fine print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed away every bit of my privacy? But as my little herald 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.

More Poop...

Our family trips are not what one would call typical. Generally speaking a vacation is a trip to Grandma's house. Generally the kids are watching a movie, I am listening to my ipod (translation: drowning out the movie and screaming kids, and yes, sometimes not talkin to my wife) I love music, its an obsession, and I don't like interrupting a good song just to engage in conversation...sorry, back to our story, here we are on our way to Grandma's house for vacation.

When we travel from Salt Lake to Ely, NV, you have a half way stop in Wendover, NV. It is in Wendover that we all hit the bathrooms, get snacks, stretch our legs, etc. As we begin to leave Wendover, for the next two hour leg of the journey, I ask if everyone has gone and are ready to go? Yes, yes, yes, and one more yes daddy. About an hour into this leg of the journey, I get pulled from my blissful world of music to be told that he has to go! He being Kid #2 and go as in fertilize the beautiful Nevada desert. The problem is that he knows I will be upset that he has to go to the bathroom after we have asked so he waits until the absolute last minute to tell us, so when the alert comes, it is a serious emergency. There is nothing around us but sagebrush and dirt. So I pull over to the side of the highway to allow him to go to the bathroom, assuming that it is #1. As you can see from the masterfully crafted depiction above it was not just #1. I have in previous episodes expressed my love hate relationship with poop. I get sick just thinking about it, but also think that it is pretty stinkin funny (no pun intended, but it works pretty well there!) Only after the fact!

For some reason my beautiful spouse decides that despite my repulsion and physical reaction to the aforementioned poop, that it was my turn to help this kid with his contribution to nature. So he gets out, pulls his pants down and squats down leaning against me to keep him from defecating on his clothing. I somehow overlooked the fact that with #2 often comes a little #1. So as the fountain proceeds, I yell for him to push it down so he doesn't pee on his shorts, of course I was too late. Then he tells me that he is done. It was like a submarine captain barking orders to try and salvage his sinking ship, try as I did, I was not getting the message across.

Now Kid #2 is 5 1/2 and fully capable of wiping his own butt. However considering the precarious position he found himself in, he wasn't really able to service himself. So guess who?? That's right me. I tried to tell his mother that he could skip it and we could buy him new shorts and underoos in town, but she wouldn't go for it. So with baby wipe in hand, with the assurance that he is done, I reach around to help this child. You know how in movies, right at the start of a dramatic scene it all slows down allowing you to really take in all that is going on? I want you to do that as I share this next part with you...

As I reach down to wipe, I hear a scared voice yelling, "Iiiiiiii'mmmmmm nnnnnnooooooottttttt ddddddoooooonnnnneeee Ddddddaaaaaaddddd!!!!!" (that was the slow motion effect) but by the time the message reached my ears, was processed by my brain, and my brain sent the message to my hand to back out, it was too late, there in my baby wipe was a handful of fresh feces. My face contorted in disgust, I threw the crap into the setting sun towards a jack rabbit, and I screamed slightly. My wife while at the same time reprimanding me and telling me not to make a scene and em-bare-ass my son,(that fit so well) is laughing her tail off! OK now go back to normal speed.

So we finish the deed, clean him up, decide to let him get clean shorts out of his suitcase because of the pee and get back on the road to finish our vacation. Moral of the story: make sure that if you need to crap in the desert, take your shorts completely off, because there is always a little #1 with the #2.