We went on a trip to Chicago for a few days a while back and visited the American girl store on the first night. I made a reservation for me and the girls to have dinner there. Bryon, of course, wanted nothing to do with it. So, he found something to eat elsewhere. Every time he does something without us, I imagine he’s getting his hair blow dried some place and a massage. That’s just the vision that pops into my mind. Maybe because that’s secretly what I want to be doing. Lol.
So, we sit down to eat and I realize they offer unlimited refills of sweet tea. Not good. I spend the entire evening alternating going to the restroom with each girl. I don’t think I even ate. I should’ve just told them to lay off the drinks but I don’t think I realized what was happening. Sometimes you’re just on auto pilot, right? They must’ve been flagging down the waitress over and over again for refills while I was in the restroom. Every time I took one girl to the restroom, the other girls were chugging sweet tea, so by the time I came back to the table the next girl was dancing around. Of course, they don’t tell you they have to go because they don’t want to miss out on anything – they just start dancing around so you have to be able to read body language. My kids literally turn into ducks – they squat and stick their butts out and walk in short quick steps. It’s the darnedest thing to see.
Apparently, I scheduled the dinner too late in the evening because the American Girl store was going to close about 20 minutes after we finished dinner. The girls really wanted to shop but there wasn’t much time left. I asked everyone if they had to go to the restroom one last time and of course they said no because they wanted to shop before they closed. The second we get out of the American Girl store and they lock the doors on us, one of the girls (I won’t say which one for anonymity) says they have to go really bad and they are doing the duck walk so I know it’s bad. I’m like Ugh! The closest place was a fancy steak and seafood restaurant!
Well, I knew this was an emergency so we went in and I begged the restaurant host (Maitre d’?) if we could use the restroom it was an emergency and he saw that I had a girl duck on my hands so he said it’s around the corner. There was a long line of women dressed nicely but when they saw my duck they said we should go on ahead. We go on ahead and right when we get in the doorway of the restroom my daughter stops walking and says, “Uh Oh!” and I look down to see a big puddle forming at her feet – in the doorway of the restroom that has a long line into the hallway.
She tries to help me clean it up but we couldn’t manage to get any paper towels to come out of the really convenient automatic paper towel dispenser (I hate those things). She manages to tear off a tiny triangle of paper towel and soaks it in the huge puddle of pee (she drank ALOT of sweet tea, remember) then flings it into the trash can. On it’s way into the trash can, you can see the trajectory of pee drops fling all over the mirror while a lady is trying to do her makeup and some of it hit the lady too. The lady cringes. I apologize and tell my daughter to please not help me.
Then, I turn back to see my other daughter hovering over the puddle of pee as if she’s trying to see her reflection in it and she starts gagging and dry heaving and I tell her to leave the restroom before she adds to the mess. I know I wasn’t saying all this in the most pleasing voice either.
Now, I’m looking like mother of the year in front of an audience and I can’t get any paper towels to come out of the super convenient, automated paper towel dispenser. I dance around in front of the paper towel dispenser frantically waving my hands and arms and finally get one paper towel to come out. I throw it on the floor over the pee and take off out of there because I’m absolutely mortified and not convinced I’ll be able to get any more paper towels to come out anyway. And, at this point, I was just looking like a circus side show act that everyone was literally just watching with their mouths hanging open. Well, at least they weren’t making a video of it.
On our way out of the restaurant, Bryon is on his way in and tells me that the third daughter now has to go to the restroom to which I reply – You. Take. Her. – in my exorcist voice. So then I have to wait outside in front of the full length windows while people eat their expensive steak and shrimp and wait for my husband to come back out. That wasn’t painful at all. Just another day in the life with kids. :-p