If you're not... I'll give you a hint... it's going to shit.
For real... Like this story ends with shit.
I could not make this crap up if I tried.
My life is like a frickin' reality show.
People would watch, and they would laugh... I just know it.
Okay... here we go.
Husband decides to take the whole family to The Outlet Stores so he can shop for new work shirts (Husband got a new job, woohooooo!!!)
Pretty much the second we got out of the car, Lovebug was acting like a puppy high on espresso.
Like it was the first time he ever saw ANYTHING in his whole life...he was blind, and now he could see kinda thing... the kid was on excitement over load.
Like: Wooo grass! Cars! All the things! I love this place!
How do we calm our children down in America?
We give them snacks of course.
Husband grabs the kids some munchies, and juice boxes... 100% Juice, juice boxes.
In our house, juice is mixed with water because it runs right through our kids... especially Lovebug... and makes them shit their cute freaking brains out.
Husband of course knows this, and bought a water too... but, for whatever reason, we decided if the kids split the juice boxes... it would be just fine and the shit would stay in the little human bodies.
Not so. Just not so at all as it turns out.
We were just about done shopping, but Husband needed to grab one more thing "for just a minute," (you can tell this is his fault already)... so I took the kids over to those small ride on toys that cost a couple quarters to keep them occupied.
Mind you, I had no quarters, so the kids were just turning steering wheels and having a grand old time on non-moving machines.
|Lovebug lovin' the non-moving toys.|
But that "just a minute," that Husband was going to be gone for... ended up being about twenty.
And the kids were slowly starting to melt down.
I called Husband and said... "Alright Italian boy, chop, chop."
I hung up the phone just in time to see Lovebug hop out of the Bat Mobile, drop his pants, and speed walk bare assed towards the grass.
He was all: "I'm just gonna poop in the grass."
And just like that... no more than six feet from Calvin Klein's front door, my little man shat his brains out.
I was holding Ladybug in one hand, my phone in the other, and yelling, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! Stop that! No!"
I was pleading, "pull your pants up! pull your pants up!"
And he's all: "No. I'm not done."
And the crowd... oh the crowd of people laughing and pointing (and if I ever find those fuckers they'd better run)... and the shit.. oh it just kept on coming.
Like lots of it.
Not continuously either, nope... he couldn't just shit and be done.
He had to shit... pause... step... shit...pause... step...
A trail of human shit... a long one.
Ladybug is watching, I am begging, "let's go to the bushes! the bushes!", Lovebug is ignoring, people are laughing.
Eventually... after there is not an ounce of food left in his body, Lovebug stops shitting, and pulls his pants up.
He is walking funny, because, hello... I had no free hands to wipe the kid, and he has an ass full of poop and just as the crowd disperses... who moseys on around the corner, whistling away with not a care in the world... but Husband.
Who I am now going to murder.
I have no idea why I am mad at Husband for this, but I am.
That's just what happens sometimes when you can't get mad at the kids, you get mad at your spouse instead.
Once Husband saw the pile of shit, the fuming wife, and the sad kids, he doubled timed it... for lots of reasons, but mainly because he didn't want to have to pick that shit (literally!) up!
We got the Hell out of there as fast as we could because, again... we didn't want to have to pick that shit up.
Within minutes, Lovebug was cleaned up, the kids were buckled in, and we were heading home.
The whole ride Lovebug jabbered his face off in the back seat:
"Mom. Remember that time I pooped in the grass at the store? And the kids were yaffing? Mom. I'm sorry I pooped in the grass. It was an accident."
And you know what?
After I was away from that steaming pile of poop, and Calvin Klein, and the people laughing and pointing... after I took a deep breath... I knew he was right.
It was just an accident... and shit happens (obviously).
And I'm so thankful to my amazing Husband for letting me be mad at him after our first born took an epic dump in broad day light in front of fifteen people at The Outlets...
Because it prevented me from being mad at Lovebug.
And even though it was by far the most embarrassing moment of my life... he didn't feel well, and he did the right thing.
He knew he didn't want to sit in it.
And he probably knew I'd be equally as upset if he pooped in his pants.
So... he did the right thing.
We had a long talk about the importance of telling someone when his belly hurts, and listening carefully to Mommy when she is giving directions as to where to poop!
I think he learned his lesson, because now... instead of apologizing for pooping in the grass, he is all:
"Don't worry Mom... next time I will poop in the bushes. Just for you."
|Pre shitting in the grass.|