Sunday, January 24, 2010

Poopy Pants + Mind Your Own Business

Carter pooped in his pants today.  Quite possibly the first time ever.  I’m not sure in all the potty training time if he ever pooped his pants.  Sure there were plenty of wet accidents…I just don’t seem to remember any dirty ones.  Maybe it’s just selective memory.

Carter and I were spending some time at a book store while Daddy was next store doing some grocery shopping.  I’m a little burnt out on some of his books right now so I thought it would be a nice treat (for both of us) to get him some new books.    This was also going to be a consolation prize for him after spending over an hour with us at the tile store.  Carter was such a good sport while Ben and I hemmed and hawed over which tile would look best in our new bathroom.  

Nothing like dirty drawers to bring everything to a screeching halt.

So, we were in the bookstore and had just walked over to the kid’s section.  Not only is there a HUGE selection of books, but there are fun toys and a train table all set up.  Carter ran right over and played for a whole 2 minutes before “it” happened.  He walked over to me and said, “I have to go potty.”  As we were making our way over to the restrooms, I noticed Carter was walking with a strange gait.  “Carter, are we too late?” I asked.  The answer:

“Mommy, I have poop in my underwear.”


I'll spare you the details of the clean up.

I now have a pounding headache.  I need a drink.  Unfortunately, there is no liquor store attached to the bookstore, but there is a Starbuck’s.  Close enough.

Me:  Medium, non-fat caramel macchiato, please.

Barista:  Sure.  Would you like a double chocolate brownie with that, today?

Me:  No thank you.  Just the coffee.

Carter:  Mommy, can I have a cookie, please?

Me: Absolutely not.

Barista:  We have chocolate chip…

Me:  No thank you.

Carter: Please, Mommy.

Me: No!

Barista:  Oh, doesn’t he look sad.

Me: (giving him the stink eye) Just the coffee, please.

I'm sure you can imagine the rest of the conversation, including the hushed whispers I had with Carter reminding him of his dirty drawers from two minutes prior. 

Clearly this idiot behind the counter of the bookstore Starbucks does not have any children of his own, nor has he ever interacted with young children.  Because if he did (or had), he would have never tried to undermine me.

Why can’t people just mind their own business?

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