Picture it. Sunday after Thanksgiving 2012 around 1600 hours Eastern Standard Time.
Me behind the steering wheel in the middle of standstill traffic, about 3 hours after a long lunch and at least 5 glasses of sweet tea at Buffalo Wild Wings. That spicy salad really was spicy and it made me really thirsty. Theo was asleep, but woke suddenly, maybe due to the sudden lack of motion. For some reason, this translated into him screaming at the top of his lungs for no known reason over the course of the next 15 minutes (that felt like 521 minutes).
Interstate traffic + me = anxiety.
Screaming toddler that can’t be reasoned with + exploding bladder = nerves beyond their breaking point.
Anxiety + Frayed Nerves = Complete & Total Meltdown.
I screamed at Theo while he was screaming, just to be louder than him in irrational hopes that he would hear me. I screamed to let off some of the tension that had been ballooning up inside like, well, my bladder.
Eventually Theo stopped screaming. My bladder did not. I begged Ryan for some kind of help. Some promise of relief. Of course there was nothing he could do. I threw that Highlander in park and climbed in the backseat, where the windows are tinted ever so slightly darker than the front. I discreetly grabbed Theo’s Mickey Mouse sippy cup and twisted that lid off at lightning speed. I pulled my pants down and relieved myself in his cup. All while avoiding eye contact with either of my children out of humiliation.
Problem.
Those cups aren’t very big and certainly don’t hold 5 glasses of sweet tea, regardless of how much ice was in those cups to begin with (tea always takes a lot of ice, you know?). There’s this phenomenon of stopping and starting that I had to use and use well. Long enough to hold this cup in position with one hand while getting a size 5 Luvs diaper out of the buried diaper bag with the other hand. And yes, after conquering a mild to moderate case of stagefright, I finished the job in that baby diaper.
Never felt more relieved than I did at that moment. All of the stress and tension of that traffic situation melted away immediately. I situated myself and resumed my spot in the driver’s seat. All the while, Ryan was looking out the window with paranoia, and rightfully so, while saying things along the lines of:
Oh my god.
Are you serious?
I can’t believe you’re doing this.
Seriously?
Yes, seriously. I sure did. And that was that. Until the next day.
Picture it. The Monday after Thanksgiving 2012.
On the way to the babysitter’s house around 0730 hours Eastern Standard Time.
Theo: Mommy?
Me: Yes, sweetie?
Theo: Why did you pee in my Mickey Mouse sippy cup?
Me: Thoughtful pause…I didn’t.
Theo: Yes, you did.
Me: No, I didn’t.
Theo: Yes, you did Mommy. In the car yesterday. You peed in my Mickey Mouse sippy cup.
Me: Thoughtful pause, accept of defeat. Oh. That. Well, you see, Theo. Mommy had to pee really, really, really, really badly and there were no potties nearby. All the cars on the road were stopped and there was nowhere for mommy to get out and use the bathroom. So I had to find something I could potty in.
Theo: But Mommy. That was my cup and I really like my Mickey Mouse sippy cup.
Me: Yes, I know, honey. I’m sorry. We can get you a new cup.
Theo: Thoughtful pause. Mommy?
Me: Yes, Theo?
Theo: I have a Mickey Mouse cup at {the babysitter}’s house. Mickey’s riding his bike and wearing a helmet and I really like that cup.
Me: Oh? That’s good!
Theo: Mommy, please don’t pee in my Mickey Mouse sippy cup at {the babysitter}’s house.
And at that moment, I knew our secret was not safe. I knew that if I didn’t tell the babyistter what had happened, Theo would tell some version of this story. She wouldn’t know if it was true. She would be confused. She might think I was making my child drink urine and report me to CPS. I had to explain.
Good morning, babysitter, let me tell you my most embarrassing story ever and get your week off to a hilarious start.
It wasn’t too funny then, but it’s pretty funny now. Darn kid is too smart for his (my) own good.
xo,
~C~