On a calm, cool night in October, the boys and I dropped the girls off for trampoline practice. Having a couple of hours to spend, we decided to go to Target to buy Halloween costumes before grabbing pizza and then picking up their sisters. It was a well-orchestrated plan. As oft happens to well-orchestrated plans, it fell apart.
We chose the costumes. Mario and Chop-Chop. If you are a Skylanders fan, you know who Chop-Chop is. If not, you need to get with the times and get yourself some of these little video game characters, because apparently, they are the shit.
After choosing the costumes, the boys—ever so sweetly—asked if we could pretty, pretty pleeeaasse take a swing through the toy aisles to see what they might be interested in writing on their lists for Santa this year. Being the uber-cool mom that I try to be, I thought that was a great idea, because we still had an eternity to wait for their sisters to be finished with practice. What better way to entertain a couple of little boys than to let them peruse the toy aisles, right? Right.
All was going entirely too well, which should have been my sign that something was about to go terribly wrong, but I didn’t pick up on that until it was WAY too late. Approximately three aisles into the toy section, Jordan grabbed himself and announced an immediate and URGENT need to potty.
Before I could even turn the cart around, my SIX-YEAR-OLDwas creating a yellow puddle in the middle of the toy aisle at Target. (We will never go to Target again, by the way. Ok, well I might go, but I will have to wear a disguise.)
In the urgency of the moment, I ever-so-quietly urged him to STOP, which is the precise moment in time that I learned that boys can’t exactly stop doing that once they start. Okie-dokie. So, the puddle continued to grow, but in his eagerness to try to stop, he grabbed the leaking area with his t-shirt, which only allowed the pee to soak upward as well as downward. He was officially soaked from belly to shoes.
A new outfit was in order. Luckily, we found something appropriate on the clearance rack. We even found a clearance pair of Batman undies, and when he got excited about the prospect of new Batman undies, I quickly reminded him that it would have been tightie-whities if those had been on sale. As it happened, it was Batman, but I was so embarrassed at that point, I told him he better not dare act excited over the superhero underwear. At this point, I was using my superhero mom power of speaking through clenched teeth without actually moving my lips at all. It’s a practiced art.
Clothes were changed in the parking lot, and our night continued pretty much as planned after that. I was reminded, however, that the toy aisles are apparently VERYexciting, and when you are 6 years old, you tend to be VERY hesitant to leave them…even if it means leaving a puddle in your wake.