October 11, 2005
Once again I find myself in a public bathroom with my daughter. No big deal right? ‘Cause we all take our kids to the bathroom when we’re out shopping. BUT I’m sure most people don’t have the “deep” conversations that I seem to encounter with Madison AND they always happen when the bathroom is CROWDED. With people. Lots of people.
So last Saturday, the whole family is out shopping at one of the big malls here. We’re just about done and getting ready to head home….GOD why couldn’t we have left just 2 minutes earlier? Daughter tells me she has to go to the bathroom. I said, Come on, you just pee’d like 10 mins ago, you can wait until we get home. She then tells me, she doesnt have to pee, she has to poop. GREAT.
We get to the bathroom and I’m thinking, let’s get this done fast and get out. Let’s not talk. Let’s stare at the walls and have zero conversation. Hmmm, well that doesn’t happen with Maddy. She’s just not the silent type. Particularly out in public. In the bathroom.
I see her thinking and slightly straining. OH GOD. Here it comes (no pun intended). Maddy says, in a rather loud voice, “Why won’t it come out”? I smile at her. And my mind starts whirling. What won’t come out? The booger from your nose? The stain on your shirt? The gum in your hair? No, none of the above. I am silent. My plan is to ignore her. Not really a good plan with Madison.
“Mom, why won’t the poop come out”? I know my eyes rolled several times as I hear the snicker snickers from outside the stall. In my deranged, stalker/pyscho mom whisper, I say, “I don’t know. Why not finish this at home”? Wrong thing to say. “Mom, I have to get the poop out here, I can’t wait to get it out at home because it’s already on it’s way”.
Okay, I hear laughing now and it’s not coming from my pie hole. Okay Maddy, let’s finish this up. I’m starting to sweat now. Are the stall walls closing in on me? I’m pretty sure they are now. A minute ticks by….I hear a plop, then another. Thank Sweet Jesus. It’s done. Let’s get the hell out of here. Wait. Wait.
There’s more chatter about to sprout from her sweet, heart shaped lips. She gets up off the toilet and turns around and looks in the toilet. OMG. “Mom, where is the big piece of poop? I see the little one but I know a big piece came out and I felt the water splash on my butt from the big piece but it’s not there. Where did it go? Did it go down that hole in the toilet by itself? Is that possible? Mom, mom, mom, where is my big piece of poop? I felt it come out. Where did it go”?
Is it wrong to want to flush your child’s head in the toilet (minus the poop of course)? I again was praying for the damn bathroom floor to open up and swallow me whole. Apparently noone upstairs is listening. I quickly wiped her butt, pulled up her pants and in a crazed, looney whisper, said, “Let’s not discuss the poop ever again. Please”.
As we exit the stall, I see some looks coming our way, some snickers, always the damn snickers. As I was helping Maddy wash her hands, I was hoping a fat, singing clown would walk in and start vomiting, because then they’d forget about the poop conversation. They would definately be telling their friends about the obese, puking clown and not the five year old girl who wanted to know where her big piece of poop went.
October 10, 2005
Maddy was 3 years old at the time of this conversation. And let me tell you, she’s a beautiful child and she’ll talk the ear off of you if you let her.
She’s been talking since she was 18 months old…I mean really talking. Strangers used to stop me out in public and ask me how old she was because they were shocked at how well she spoke. Too well at times.
We were at the grocery store one day (she was about 21 months old at the time) and we were walking by the checkouts. And it was BUSY. Lots of people around. She pointed to the upper floor of the grocery store and said, “That’s where the bathrooms are, right mommy?”. Yes honey, that’s where they are. “Mommy, DO YOU HAVE TO POOP?”. Ummmm, no I don’t Maddy (I’m saying this in the standard clenched teeth, pycho mom whisper, you know the one I mean). “Yes you do mommy, you said you have to poop”. No, no I didn’t say any such thing. Oh and she’s practically yelling these questions at me. Just for fun. Just wanting to make sure EVERYONE in the goddamn store hears her. Then she laughs. She thought it was hysterical that she was embarrassing mommy about body functions in the grocery store. And for the record, no I didn’t have to poop…made no mention of that. She just dreamed that all up on her own.
Fast forward to a few months ago at the mall. She’s 4 1/2. We’re in the public bathroom. The BUSY, CROWDED public bathroom. She’s peeing. The stalls are full. As we’re in our stall, she says, “So does everyone have fur on their privates”? WHAT?????????? Where does this child come up with this stuff?
Ummmmm, well….what do I say? I can hear the snickers all around. I’m starting to wish that old familiar scene where the floor opens up and it swallows you whole, happens. I’m begging in my mind for that scenerio to take place. But it does not. SHIT. Okay so Miss I’mGoingToAskMyMotherTheMostEmbarrassingQuestionsPossible Thang is waiting for an answer. If I don’t spit something out soon, well, she’ll ask it again. Oh and I’m sure Suzy Q and Betsy Loo in the adjoining stalls are also waiting for an answer. So I say, “Well Maddy, when you get older, like a teenager, you will get…..hair on your privates”. Whew. Thank God, I’m in the clear. BUT alas, I’m not.
She then says, “Well mommy, when you peed, I didn’t see any fur on your privates, how come”?
Sweet Jesus, where is that bolt of lightening when you want to be struck down? So now, there are more snickers. Great. My fur status is known to the strangers in the freakin public bathroom. Time is ticking by soooooo slowly. Where is the end of the world when you want it? Holy. So I say, well sometimes adults shave their hair. I’m saying this as quietly as one can in an echo-ey, grand canyon-ey accoustics style bathroom, which by the way, isn’t all that quiet. Nope, sure isn’t.
So now Suzy Q and Betsy Loo are intrigued. I can tell they are still in the stalls on either side of me…waiting for the next round. They’re not wiping or flushing yet ’cause they want to hear it all. Beeyotches.
Okay, so I’m thinking, that’s it right? No more questions from Miss 20QuestionsPlusOneMore. WRONG. “Mommy, how come daddy has fur on his privates then”? OMG. Just kill me now, someone, please. Okay so I’m thinking, this sounds BAD. Little girl saying she knows about her mother’s lack of fur and her father’s for sure fur (there’s not much, just for the record, wanted to clarify that so noone thought he had a jungle there.) But anyone with small children knows that at some point, they’re going to see you come out of the shower or getting dressed….all purely innocent.
Anyway, I’m beyond the fact that it sounds bad and just wondering, how to answer that question. Suzy Q and Nosey Parker are STILL in the adjoining stalls. “Well sweetie, sometimes people don’t shave it all, they like to leave some”. HOLY SHIT. I can’t believe I’m having a pubic hair conversation with my 4 year old. In a public bathroom. With strangers. LISTENING. So she then says, “Well my privates are bald right now and I dont know if I’ll shave or not”. Well that’s great honey. You’ve got a few years to decide on whether you want fur or no fur. No rush.