2tickets2paradise's Blog

My good friend Danielle sent me this, for those of you who have ever dealt with a mouthy 3 year old, you know there is no shutting them up... the more you try the worse it gets and will probably empathize with this woman. I have to admit, I have been guilty of wanting to hide my shoes in similar situations.


Potty Stop......

A 3-year-old tells all from his mother's rest-room 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 rest-room. If you'd b een one of the ladies in the rest-room
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, dat's 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. I sheepishly opened the 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 embarrassment,
then I thought, 'Where's the fine print 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)