As any mother will tell you getting ice cream as a family when you have kids is always an experience! Especially when they don’t know how to wipe their own butts.
It’s Friday, what better thing for a family of 4 to do than to go get ice cream? So that’s just what we did! Huge heaping servings of chocolate, soft serve vanilla, coconut, and heath bar were served up in cones and dishes. I am the mom, I got a cone because I have good positive control! Right?
Five minutes into our ice cream feast Theo looks up at me with those panicked eyes that I know too well. “I have to poop!” Loud and proud in the middle of the ice cream shop. We hurry off to the bathroom, and close the door behind us. Once the door is closed and I see Theo standing there with a look of distress in his eyes with his pants around his ankles….standing next to a toilet that looks 3 feet high. I move forward to help and it dawns on me that I am holding my double decker coconut and heath bar cone in my hand.
Now what? Seriously? Am I really stuck in here in this dilemma? I lift him up with my left hand and stand there wondering if it is acceptable to eat my cone while waiting for my son to finish pooping. I lick…..I sniff…..not a good idea! “I’m done!” Great! Record time! I go to grab the toilet paper (ice cream still in hand). No tp on the little roll. No tp on the left large roll. No tp on the right large roll. No tp on the back of the toilet! Are you serious?!?!?!?!
What to do. Poop in the 3yr old’s butt and an ice cream in hand. I’m Totally going to be busted publicy for eating in the bathroom! I then slink out with my cone behind my back and a 3yr old still sitting on the toilet (confused at this point). I quietly ask for a roll of tp and slink my way back into the bathroom, ice cream still in hand.
Once behind closed doors i can breath a sigh of relief. I then begin to pull the wrapper off the tp. Not working with ice cream in hand. I then start looking for some kind of magic ice cream cone holder as if all ice cream shops would run into this problem with their patrons. Nothing. I look at the electric hand drier. No. I look at the sink. No. I look at the tp holder. Eww, no. I am then left with no choice but to slink out again with ice cream in hand.
I go up to my husband and ask him to hold my cone, knowing it will not be anywhere close to it’s original state when I come out of the bathroom for good in another 2 minutes. Back in to the bathroom again. I help my son wipe his butt (the high light of all my days) and then go to flush the toilet.
I look down and notice the poop is dangerously close to the front of the water. I cross my fingers and flush. The poop sits there like concrete in a wind storm. I go to flush again. Damn water saving toilets!!!!! Why do you not fill up quickly?!?!?! I wait 30 seconds and try to flush again. Nothing. Meanwhile my son is getting fidgety and wants to know why he can’t continue to enjoy his chocolate goodness waiting for him at the table. “Wait a minute Theo, Mommy is trying to fix the toilet.” “Fix the toilet?” “Yes.” “My poop broke the toilet?” “Yes.” A look of shock.
I try to flush again. I give up! If we’re in there any longer people are going to start to wonder. I go back out to the counter and hand them the bathroom key. I look to the floor and say, “My son clogged the toilet with his poop. Sorry.” and walked away. The 3 teenagers behind the counter giggle and start to color on a piece of paper.
All the giggling and scribbling produced an “Out Of Order” sign for the bathroom door. I try to explain to them that really all they have to do is try to flush it again. As if a 17 year old wants to hear that! “It’s ok, we’ll just leave the sign up.”
Five minutes later a family walks in. They need to use the bathroom. Awesome.