(This is a tale of toddlers and bodily functions. If you are easily offended, turn back now. Do not go this way. Stop reading now!)
Billy and I sat down to the table at a nice restaurant with PeePop. Just as the hostess handed us our menus, Billy declared, "I gotta go potty!"
I whisked him off to the potty to do his business. Mission accomplished.
We head back to the table. PeePop already has a drink. The waiter circles around so I place drink orders and Billy's food order.
"Mommy, I gotta POOP!" He says this last word with extra vigor and start bouncing up and down in his chair in a manner which can only be called 'the poop dance."
Off to the potty we go. Mission NOT accomplished. "Mommy, is that a window? What's this? What's that? Who's in there (the other stall)? Why are they in there? Do you need to potty? Do I need to potty? I don't need to potty."
Back to the table. By this time PeePop is eating salad and bread sticks. And no, we weren't at Olive Garden.
I get two minutes to read the menu while Billy restarts the Poop Dance and the whining. I wait for the waiter so I can order and then head back to the bathroom.
"Last chance until after dinner. Poop or else!"
Again, mission NOT accomplished. Now I can't tell if he's bored, constipated or really does need to poop.
We go back to the table and he started to tell me about the pain in his butt. He says he's not hungry while he shovels fistfuls of chicken tender into his mouth, complaining all the while about the poopy pain in his butt.
I threaten loss of dessert, loss of toys if he's faking, but what can I do? Back to the potty we go. And another failure. Strike three.
"Ok, you have to hold it until we get home. Mommy wants to eat her dinner."
By now PeePop has eaten salad, soup and half of his dinner. I have had salad and a bite of dinner. And I have an idea. I give him an olive (owl lip as Billy calls them). He hates olives. Never mind that.
"See this? It looks an awful lot like a prune, doesn't it? Do you know the olives are also poop fruit? (okay, stretching, but go with me). If you eat it, that poop will fly right out of your butt!"
"Really?" He gobbled it up. "I love owl lips!" Unfortunately, there were none left except that one, but I was hoping that the mental trick would take.
And, of course, he wanted to go back to the potty. So back we went and again nothing. Okay, seriously this time is the last time. I swear. No more until we get home.
We get back to the table and he starts the Poop Dance again. I seriously would love to, I don't know, actually get to eat my dinner to more than two minutes at a time. No, no potty. 4 trips of nada. N.O. NO.
He gives me a red faced look and says "I'm POOOOOPING!!!!!!"
Seriously? I mean, really? Here? At the table? Now?
I do what any parent of a toddler would do... the reach around. Yep. Grab the bum and feel for that extra lump which is not a cute little toddler cheek. Three lumps. Damn. One too many.
Back to the potty we go to deal with the carnage.
By now PeePop has asked the waiter to bring me a box. He's with the program here. I'm ready to go home. Check please.