After preschool pick-up today, I needed to run to Target (obviously), so I pulled a Super Mom Move and packed lunches for Benny and Faith to eat in the car. I was all patting-myself-on-the-back that I had the forethought to throw lunches together a) in enough time before I needed to leave to get them and b) to prevent them from whining in the car about STARVATION to the point that I made a bad decision and detoured through the McDonald’s drive-thrut. I’ve read this story too many times.
Pick up accomplished. Kids in car. Lunches on laps. Potty emergency.
Literally, four seconds after everyone was situated and we’d just left preschool. Of course.
I convince Benny that I’ll “drive real fast” and he can use the potty the second we get to Target. He’s squirming in his carseat and all, I can’t make it! I’m going to pee NOW! while I’m thinking to myself, Best laid plans…
I push on, asking him one-hundred questions about his day, hoping to distract him from the situation.
But, ultimately, the I HAVE TO PEE NOW! RIGHT NOW! I CAN’T MAKE IT! convinced me that my Target run may actually not happen because a change of clothes our car has not.
Make it to Target. Jump out of car. Unstrap Benny from carseat. Remove him from eyesight of passers-by. And there he pees. In the parking lot.
On this day in motherhood, my kid peed in the Target parking lot.
I’d like to tell you that the rest of our trip was uneventful, but I’d be denying you the privilege of knowing that they convinced me they didn’t need to ride in the cart. Like, why? This isn’t my first rodeo. I should know better.
But, there we were, at the cart corral inside the store, the Dollar Spot a few yards away just beckoning my pocketbook, and they’re begging, PLEASE LET US WAAAAAALK! WE PROMISE WE WON’T RUN! PROMISE! WE WON’T TOUCH ANYTHING! Somehow, I thought that this would be THE TIME that they wouldn’t prance through the aisles, flitting in the opposite directions, touching all the things, and hugging the massive unicorn stuffed animals on the end cap. I was wrong. So wrong.
Post-outdoor section, where they happily tried out every patio set on display, I called their bluff. They were, actually, running and not listening and touching all the things. So, I hoisted them into the cart and finished up with Benny in the child seat and Faith manning the head of the cart a lá Rose and Jack in Titanic.
The trip was quick. The kind of quick where I actually only bought the things I came for.
And, I finished by smuggling the gigantic jar of peanut butter pretzels into my lap with no intent to share. Because REWARD.