Port-a-Potty

Today the husband and I found ourselves in a rather precarious situation. We have a wonderful maintenance crew who respond promptly to our requests to kill our unwelcome insect visitors. (Yes, I’ll have the blood of thousands of ants on my hands in the next life. Too bad they infest the same floor my kids roll around on.) When we returned from the grocery store we found that they sprayed while we were away—which means that we needed to stay away for at least a few hours while the fumes diffused.

The husband suggested that we head over to the med school and watch a movie on the projectors while we wait. I married a genius. So, we pulled my trusty double bob out of the bike room and quickly loaded it with all of the essentials: left over quesadillas, fruit roll ups, water bottles, “A Toy Story” DVD, and—oh yes—the port-a-potty. Atrain isn’t quite comfortable with public restrooms yet, and I knew the kid would need to go while we were away. The solution was to wrap the plastic potty in a blanket and tuck it under the stroller’s canopy. It fit perfectly. No one would ever know we were transporting a bathroom for our three year old.

Our plan worked perfectly. The movie was a huge hit with Atrain. Jdog slept like a little angel in his half of the stroller. I snuck in a little computer time. The husband studied away. And, when Atrain needed to go, I pulled out the potty to let him do his business—all while our ant enemies were being exterminated.

But, then it was time to go. “What should we do with it?” I asked the husband, eyeing the little potty. “Dump it,” he said as he fastened both hands onto the double stroller and chuckled. Clearly the dumping would be my job. Good thing it was just #1. I wrapped it in the blanket, listening to its contents sloshing around. After slowly cracking open the door I felt like tip toeing down the hallway to the restroom. If only invisibility were an option. Then I wouldn’t have to run into anyone we knew who might ask to see our “new little one” wrapped in the blanket in my arms.

I made it safely to the women’s restroom only to see that it was closed for cleaning. Yes—now I had a great excuse to pass the potty off to the husband. We made a swift exchange, and he made it successfully in and out of the men’s room in under 30 seconds without making human contact. Then we stowed it safely away in the blanket, under Bob’s deep canopy. We were nearly home free.

It was a windy afternoon. The walk home would be less than five minutes, but I held Atrain tightly in my arms the whole way so my skinny little man wouldn’t blow away. Jdog and the potty were safely bundled deep in the stroller. Half-way home we spotted a couple of the husband’s classmates. “Crap, hope they don’t spot the pot,’ I thought. We made small talk for a moment, then one of them said, “I didn’t know you guys have three kids.” Busted. “No, we just have two…that’s just…my lap top,” I lied, hoping she wouldn’t see my computer case sitting on top of the stroller. “Oh,” she replied, “they sure are cute kids,” she said. “Thanks.” If she only knew.