Preschool pickup could have gone better today. Read ahead at your own risk.
I got the day’s rundown when I went to sign the boys out. “Destroy’s in a pull-up because he asked for one to poop in.” Hey! That’s great! Smooth sailing sign out and just another day for the books.
If only that were the end.
Between the sandbox and classroom (to receive the accidentally soiled play clothes) for one final school day potty break, Destroy liberated his little bottom from the previously requested pull-up. “I don’t need it anymore.”
Unbeknownst to me (or anyone else) the contents of the used glow-in-the-dark (learn something new every day) pull-up fell somewhere along our path. They were discovered when another teacher inadvertently stepped in it.
Yup. So now we’re *that* family.
Once again I commanded my two tiny peeps to use the facilities before we left. And then I heard the scream.
“Do not pee on your brother! … No! We do not give our brother a wedgie for peeing on you! Come back here and put on your pants. Destroy! Come back here!”
Destroy listened. He ran back over to the potty and tossed over my keys.
Right. Into. The. Toilet. <SPLASHDOWN>
I stared at the preschool potty. Search stared into the potty. Destroy stared into the potty.
“Damnit!” (This was not the initial phrasing that crossed my mind.)
I looked at my sons. Preschool is only four miles away; I debated abandoning the car and walking home.
Instead, I sighed and plunged my hand into the vat of liquid I prefer not to think anything more of. I rush over and resoaked the keys under the sink faucet. Destroy stumbled out after me to ask what I was doing – pants still firmly around his ankles.
With my hands scrubbed raw and red and the germy keys protected by only a thin sheet of industrial-grade paper towel, our little threesome finally headed toward the car. I didn’t even know if the computerized chip-set buttons on the key would still work.
But I was jolted from my musings by one of the most disturbing phrases known to a potty-training parent. “Mommy… I have something on me…”
Apparently, the pooping wasn’t complete. He had investigated a new sensation with his finger. (Hey – I warned you.)
Back we marched to the familiar sink. Yes honey, I know that water is very hot. Let’s scrub harder with the rough paper towels made from recycled materials.
By the time we got home Search had to pee once again. I should have just had him pee on the lawn.
Upon his potty seat he sat. And with a stream seemingly choreographed by a designer for the great Disney World of Color water event, his pee arced over the splashguard and all over me.
I yelled for Destroy to try as well. But he was already well into meltdown mode. And also pooping again. He fought me tooth and nail – ultimately dislodging the potty seat and further traumatizing himself in the potty-training arena as I desperately attempted to prevent my son from falling and flushing himself down the toilet.
Really it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad evening. But as Oracle proved to the Kiwi’s today, everyone has bad days. Even in New Zealand.
But I do hope my boss understands I won’t be at work today because I’ve had to burn my keys – including the office access keyfob.