Once upon a time...yesterday...I decided to be a nice mommy and take my kids for a special outing to McDonalds. Special because I am trying to cut down on the fast food meals so to actually be taken to McD's is an all out cause for celebration for these two kiddos of mine. Oh, and we didn't go to just any old McDonalds. We went to the fancy, new McDonalds....
The kids were beside themselves with glee when I announced this plan to go to Mickey D's. Cat completely went nuts when I said "and you can play in the new playground area there!" (She didn't know I would be smothering her in hand sanitizer and showering her like she was covered in nuclear waste when we got home, but I'll disclose those details later in our tale...)
We arrived at the fancy McD's and marveled at the large flat screen tv's on every wall, the coffee cafe with Pottery Barn chairs, the sophisticated paint colors and the gorgeous tile floors. Even the crew looks like they've been dressed by a stylist. Pretty nifty! We order and head off to eat our lunch. So far, a lovely experience. And then it happened....girly in blue shirt trots by smearing her hand across her very drippy nose then proceeds to wipe it across the front of her pants. GACK! At least she wasn't in the play area...whew! Then picky nose girl #2 in tan shirt comes by with a two handed nasal thrust like she was attempting to remove her own brain. OMG! I quickly turn my head from the horror and try to distract my kids so they won't vomit on the fancy Corian table top. What's happened to this town I live in??? I start slurping down my iced coffee to take my mind off this awfulness. After a bit, my kids finish their meals and Cat is ready for some playtime. (Now, I am a germ freak...I really don't like these playground thingys...but I'm trying to go out of my comfort zone a bit so my daughter doesn't end up like me...I mean Howard Hughes....)
Cat starts climbing around in the giant cage they call a "play palace." She's laughing, sliding down the big tube slide and just having a blast. I have decided that about 15 min. is about all my germ phobic nerves can take so I settle on the cushy couch they have for the grown-ups and wait. Cue the Jaws theme....
Out of the corner of my eye I see a very small toddler trotting toward the cage, I mean "play palace." How cute! Little blond curls, looking all cherub-y...He toddles closer to the cage...and that's when I notice his diaper must weigh about 35 lbs. (uh..yeah...did I forget to mention he wasn't wearing pants...in public????) Not only that, but it was actually leaking poo!!!! Leaking pooooo!!!!! That's when I jumped up (picture this in slow motion..much more interesting...) and ran for the cage. "Cat! Cat! Time to go! NOW!!!" Cat isn't "hearing" me...ok..she's ignoring my cries of distress..."CAT, we have to leave now, come on' sweetie!" My nerves are quickly shattering all over the fancy McDonald's carpeted play area. Leaky Poo Pants is about to enter the play zone. That does it...I'm gonna have to send in the troops. "CONNOR! HELP MOMMY NOW!!!" Connor, ever the soldier for good, heads to the cage entrance and in his deep man tween voice bellows, "Come on, Cat..we're going now or we can't play at home later!" Ouch! She gets mad but comes along. "Why do we have to go, Mommy?" she looks incredibly disappointed because the opportunity to play in one of these germ infested nightmares, I mean fun play areas, are few and far between. I can't speak from the trauma of seeing the walking biohazard. Connor, taking control of this sinking ship, commands, "Put your shoes on, Cat." He's such a good boy.
Leaky Poo Pants suddenly turns from the "play palace" entrance and locks eyes with mine. Oh, don't you be lookin' at me with all your cute little stinkiness, Poo Pants! He toddles our direction. I can now smell this little bundle of joy and so can the rest of the moms (who, by the way, are looking as horrified as I was...) His poor little face is smeared with chocolate (at least I hope that's what it was) and he is walking bow-legged. Poor little Poo Pants. I really want to scoop him up, clean him, give him a hug and send him on his way...Then it hits me (stronger than his poo panty smell...) WHERE IS HIS PARENT????? There was no one in this area that was coming to the aid of Poo Pants! UGH! Just when I was about to go for help or try to find a person with a diaper bag, one of the other moms found his "mom" (and I use that term loosely) sitting outside texting on her phone, apparently forgetting that she had a tiny tot inside. I figured after sizing up the other moms that they could probably take her in a fight so I felt that was my cue to get us the heck out of there! (And Cat really did have a bath when we got home..I know, I know...germs are good for kids...I do let her play in dirt and stuff...but I do not want a horrible viral epidemic in my household caused by the biohazardous diaper at the "play palace"!) Needless to say, this Mom will be hitting the drive thru from now on!
p.s. I apologize if I have offended anyone's sensibilities with my poo pants story..but I have always found it very healing to write about my pain and suffering (and I love dragging all of you with me through my angst...Thanks for supporting me through my emotional trauma of the poo pants!)
p.s.s. Living in AZ (aka hell on earth come June), I understand that t-shirts and diapers are sometimes what wee ones feel best in...however, being the old-fashioned kinda girl that I am, I think a kid needs some pants when he's in public! I don't walk around in my underwear, for goodness sakes!