True Story Tuesday: The Poop Chronicles Continue

Please don't tell me I am the only one with those "Seriously?  This could only happen to us!" kind of stories.  You know you have them.  Write one up, and go link it to Rachel & Mr. Daddy.  Don't make me feel bad.  And, in case you have missed our other adventures in bodily functions, feel free to go here and catch up.  But be warned.  I will not be held responsible for throw up on your computer.









This week's TST post is courtesy of our very own Violet, and the weekend marathon road trip.


Friday we drove literally all the way across the state to go visit Jerome's brother & his sweet family.  The kids did really well, considering we had a 7 year old, a 4 year old, and an almost 3 year old in the car for 9 1/2 hours, and bladders the size of marbles.


We were about an hour from their house, cruising along the interstate, when Madi exclaimed that she needed to pee.  Now, with Kat, we have some time.  Madi?  We go to Defcom 3 and make a mad dash for the nearest restroom or bush, whichever is closer.  And that is when I saw the sign from Heaven.

Image Courtesy Google Images

Since it had been a long day, and since it is very NOT FAIR that Daddy gets to go potty all by himself now, he lovingly offered to buy me caffeinated goodness whilst I wrangled the girlie buns in the restroom.


Madi & Kat did their business, and I set about to change Violet's pull-up.  Yes, she is potty training.  And has been.  And for some reason developed a fear of any toilet without her "squishy seat".  Fun times.


I do not enjoy pull-ups.  But, we deal.  And I really hate putting my child's skin against a public bathroom floor, so I thought we could get away with a standing change.  So, we got her shoes & pants off, and started to take off her pull up. 


She lost her balance and sat down.  As she stood up, I noticed a tiny poop streak in the pull-up.  No biggie, I thought - we just need to sit on the potty of doom for a minute to get the poop out. 


And that's when I realized she was trying to go Star Trek.


You know, Klingons?  On Uranus?


And there was a pile of poop on the S*arbucks bathroom floor.  Apparently the entire Klingon empire decided to wage war against me.


I love my children.


Madi screamed because the super-power-suck-your-butt-down-the-drain-flusher scared her.  Violet cried because I made her sit on the potty of doom to get the rest of the poop out.  Katrina cried because she was tired and just wanted to be at Uncle Adam's house.  I wanted to cry because I succeeded in smearing my child's poop on my pants while trying to clean the poop off the floor.


I was amazed CPS wasn't at the door when I opened it. 


I gave Jerome the "you are so dead even though this isn't your fault" glare as we herded the minions to the car.  We vowed to NEVER return to that St*rbucks.


But, really, Kat put it best.  She said, "Daddy, you owe Mommy SO much coffee for that one!"