Last Friday, Hank woke up with a swollen eye. He has had a cough and a runny nose for about two weeks, and the cough just wouldn't let go. I was starting to think I needed to take him to the doctor, and that eye just clinched things. I called the doctor's office as soon as they opened, but I couldn't get Hank in until 11:15. I decided that since we were up and dressed, we would run our errands before the doctor's for once.
We went to Goodwill first, where I found some snowpants for Jed and two shirts that will be perfect for the boys' Halloween costumes. And some curtains for our house which hopefully I will show you later.
Then we went to WalMart. It was 10:00 when we arrived, giving me just over an hour to knock out my big list and make it to the doctor's on time. We raced around and actually found everything on the list in record time--we lined up at the check-out counter at 10:40. I got everything on the belt and gave the cashier my grocery bags and freezer bag, which I brought because things would be sitting in the car for a while.
You know the cashier that just throws your groceries in your bags willy-nilly after you've organized everything together on the belt? This cashier was the opposite. My organizing of my groceries was apparently not good enough; she went through each item slowly, carefully stacking boxes for maximum fit in each grocery bag. She tried several combinations of items in the freezer bag before she was happy. I appreciate her thoroughness, don't get me wrong. I just wish it would have happened a little faster. But she and I had a good chance to get to know each other!
About half-way through the ringing-up process, Jed comes to me and says "mommy, I have to go potty!" in that urgent voice all moms know and love. To make matters better/worse, he is holding his bum with one hand. Gaaaahhhh. I was totally stuck between a rock and a hard place--I couldn't abandon my groceries and Hank to take Jed to the bathroom, and I hated to send Jed to the bathroom alone. However, it was fairly early at WalMart, the hour when mostly seniors and moms are shopping, and our register was only a few steps from the bathroom. And we were working against the clock--it was at least 10:55 by now. So I took a deep breath and asked him if he thought he could go potty by himself. At first he was a little hesitant, but nature was calling more insistently, so he gamely went alone.
Keeping one eye on the Men's room, Hank and I finished dealing with the groceries and paid the cashier. I walked to the bathrooms and parked Hank in front of the bathrooms. I waited for a few minutes, watching the precious minutes tick away. Finally, I decided to ask Jed if he was okay.
So I leaned around the entrance to the bathroom and asked "Jed?"
"Yes mommy?" came his sweet little voice.
"Are you okay in there?"
"yes, I am just going potty" he said.
"Okay, you're doing good. Just try to hurry, because we need to get to the doctor's office."
"ohkaaay."
A few minutes passed (11:02) and I was getting antsy. I checked on him again.
"Jed? How ya doing?"
"Good! I am just pooping!"
"Okay." The defeat is creeping over me. Jed likes to take his sweet time when nature calls.
A nice older man comes out of the restroom and asks if I am the mom of the little boy inside. I say yes and he tells me "He is just singing away in there." I decide that I have to speed things up or we'll be late and they'll reschedule our appointment for the afternoon and I am NOT making two trips uptown. "Jed! are you done?" I ask, very firmly.
"Mommy, I am not done. I am going potty!"
Sigh.
I turn around, out of the entrance to the Men's room and see a very old man behind me, confusedly checking the bathroom signs. I say, trying to laugh it off, "you're in the right one! I am just trying to get my son to hurry. Go ahead!" He looks at me like I am crazy and heads in the bathroom. He comes out a few moments later (now it's 11:08 and I am getting so antsy) and says "I think you need to check on him."
Now I am really stuck. I have Jed, in the bathroom, and Hank sitting in a cart full of purchased groceries. I can't wheel Hank into the bathroom, and I can't just wait for Jed. Lo and behold, here comes the cashier that rang up my groceries! She is headed on break. I ask her if she would mind standing with Hank for just a second while I go help Jed. She says sure. The old man is still standing there and he says "I'll go in and make sure no one else is there."
So I follow him in the bathroom, where he hollers "Is anyone else here?" From the far stall, a man's voice calls out "I'm in here, but it's okay, she can come in." Now I want to crawl in a hole--at least 4 strangers are involved in Jed's using the bathroom.
I go in and look through the crack in the stall. There's Jed, just sitting. "Hi Mommy!" he says.
"Jed, are you done?" I asked.
"Yes, but I can't get down, because the potty will flush." Of course it's an automatic flush toilet, the kind that scares Jed more than anything else.
I said "Jed can you unlock the door? I will come in and help you."
"No mommy! The potty will flush!"
I try to push the door open but he has actually managed to lock it all the way. I have to jam my non-existent fingernail into the little slit in the lock and t u r n it to unlock the door. (11:10)
FINALLY, there is nothing between my son and I. He has his pants and underwear around his ankles and his hands clamped firmly around his ears. I say "Jed, get down and I'll wipe your bum." He refuses to let go of his ears, so I lift him off the toilet, fold him into a bending position and wipe. And then I pull up his pants because he still won't let go of his ears. I say "go stand by the sink and I will keep the potty from flushing until you're there."
Jed shimmies out of the stall and I carefully remove my hand from where I'd placed it over the light sensor. And...the toilet refuses to flush.
I push the little black button and we wash hands. As we're leaving the bathroom, I say to the man trapped in the stall "Sir, I am so sorry. Thanks for being patient."
"No problem!" comes the cheerful reply. "I have three kids of my own so I am never surprised any more."
Is that what it takes?
Epilogue:
We collect Hank from the crowd that has gathered to admire him (it still strikes me as funny that babies attract such a crowd here) and RUN to the car. I buckle the boys into their seats and haphazardly toss my groceries in the back. My cashier would be so dismayed. I rush us to the doctor's office and we arrive at 11:21. Hank is diagnosed with some sort of eye infection, as well as a double ear infection.
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