Hi! Lynne here!!
It’s been sad here in Sweet Midlife land. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers and sweet comments. We are living off of them.
So I thought I would tell you a funny true story. It’s about a gross thing that happened to us on the way to San Antonio this spring. SPOILER ALERT: It’s really gross. But it’s kinda funny. Now.
So, this past April, my husband, toddler son and I headed to Texas to see my husband’s family. We only get down there about every two years, so it’s something that we plan way in advance. Now, I won’t lie and say that this means that we are packed a week in advance, and that we roll out of the door exactly when we planned, and that we have on clean neat travelling clothes that we ironed. Because no. But we did put a lot of thought into what we were taking, and to what we were wearing, and even though I did change purses at the last minute, we did think a lot about potty issues. See, we started potty training hardcore back in February, and we had been doing really well with the big boy undies and all. On this trip, though, we decided to put him in Easy-Ups training pants (Pampers didn’t pay us to mention them, but holla, Pampers!! We love ya!) since we had a long day with the driving and parking and boarding and waiting and flying and such. AC, my husband, got the boy out of bed and out of his pajamas, and I put him in the Easy-Ups.
I swear I put him in the Easy-Ups.
So we got dressed, and packed our bags, and before we left the house, I thought, “I should really take him to the potty now.” But I didn’t listen to me, because he had on training pants, and we proceeded to the airport. We checked in, and even ran into friends of mine who I hadn’t seen for a very long time, and laughed and talked, and got to our gate and ate Auntie Anne’s pretzels (They aren’t paying me to mention them either, but Holla, Auntie Anne! I used to buy your pretzels in bulk). Before we boarded the plane, the toddler said that he needed to go to the potty, so my husband grabbed his hand and walked him to the restroom. When I looked up 90 seconds later, they were back, and my son was screaming “I don’t have to go!”, because apparently the airport bathrooms weren’t up to his high toddler standards. Yeah. Now, we thought about making him go, but the plane was boarding, and you know, he was wearing training pants. We’d be fine.
We settled into seats towards the back of the plane, and we set up my son next to a window where he could see things, and we handed him headphones and my husband’s tablet all loaded up with kid shows, and we took off on our 3.5 hour flight.
And things were going great until about 2 hours in. Now, if you are wondering why we hadn’t taken my son to the bathroom by then, chalk it up to wishful thinking, and sleep deprivation, and the fact that he seemed comfortable. Yes, this was not smart, since toddler boys have been known to walk around in their own nastiness for hours if good TV is on. But again, self-delusion. My husband had gotten up to go to the bathroom, when Toddler says he has to pee. He was actually doing a little dance, but I figured that we had time for my husband to get back and take him to the lavatory. And that is when I looked down and saw something coming out of his pants leg.
It was brown.
I kinda started to panic, and make up things that could be that color and falling out of his pants that were not what I knew it was. Mud? Had we been to a mud pit? Runny brownies that he put in a pocket that had a hole in it? As I ran through all of the fake possibilities in my head, Husband came back. “He has to go NOW”, I said, and my husband grabbed his hand, as the little boy actually waddled to the bathroom because his pants were so full. And I called for the very nice and non-judgmental Southwest Airlines flight attendants (another unsolicited thanks), and they brought me disinfectant and gloves. And I started scrubbing brown stuff that wasn’t really an under-cooked brownie out of the plane carpeting. And my husband and son came back, and we put my son back in his seat, and I noticed that he was still waddling. “What happened?”, said I. “We didn’t pack a change of clothes in his backpack.” said he. This was so strange, because we sometimes over-pack that thing. “Why was he so wet?”, said I. “Did he pee through the Easy-Up?”
Wait for it.
“He wasn’t wearing one”, said the husband.
Things started swirling, and maybe it was the cleaner I had been inhaling, but say what now?
We still have no idea what happened to those training pants. I swear he had them on.
So my poor wet son had to sit in his plane seat for another hour in wet pants and not shoes and socks, because they were soaking. The lady across the aisle from us was shooting me dirty looks. I tried smiling as I looked up from the scrubbing but she wasn’t having it. And my poor child moaned “Mommy, I’m cold.”
Of course you are, sweet boy. I am sorry that you have parents who misplaced your disposable training pants and didn’t pack you replacement shorts.
When we finally landed, we waited until everyone got off of the plane, and tried to walk really fast to the baggage claim so we could get his clothes out of his suitcase and change him fast. We got our bags, lugged them off of the carrel, and started throwing clothes around right there in the luggage area. I found shorts, a shirt, socks and a new pair of shoes, and Soggy Boy and I ran to the airport bathroom. The large stall was open, and I started the peeling off, and the wiping.
So. Much. Wiping. And in between it, I would go out to the sinks, and my naked toddler would run out into the sink area, and ladies would squeal “SOOOOO CUTE!”, and I would smile and say “GET BACK IN THERE.”, and more wiping.
And I threw away every single thing he had been wearing. Including the shoes, which were just about too small anyway. Didn’t matter. They had the taint on them. And they needed to go.
And there was more to that day, with the rental car company not having our car ready, and the owner of the house we rented having to wait for us for awhile, and the 4 AM storm that rattled the sweet bungalow’s shutters so much that we thought someone was trying to get in the house, and my husband got up so fast and knocked something over and it set the burglar alarm off. Yeah. But the rest of our stay was wonderful, and I knew the non-wonderful part would make a good story. I wasn’t going to tell it, but we needed a laugh right now. So there you go.