Clark was sick last week, so I was behind on some work. I usually wait until his Daddy or his Nana can keep him while I make a Post Office trip to mail packages, but since I was already behind, I decided to be brave.
I got to the Post Office in Blythewood, which is about the size of my closet, and got in line. There I was balancing 2 packages, a toddler, and trying to keep up with my keys and my purse. We were probably the 5th or 6th people in line, and there was no room to move. I was feeling like luck was on my side. A spot opened up on the table in the middle, so I sat the packages down, and Clark was standing still beside me.
I guess I was feeling a little too cocky, because Clark started squirming. He wanted to be held, so I picked him up as the line inched along. We were probably the 2nd or 3rd people in line, when I felt Clark’s tummy tighten. OH NO!!! Are you seriously going to use the bathroom right now, or “stinky poo poo” as we call it around our house?!?
Well, he didn’t poop, but he ripped one. I’m talking a man-sized one. I hurriedly covered his bottom with my hand to try to muffle the sound, and Clark giggled. I think he was a little embarrassed, because everyone in the closet-sized Post Office not only heard, but smelled it as well! I guess the embarrassment wore off quickly, because as soon as I moved my hand, he did it again!
That time, he looked at me like he was totally surprised and announced to me, “Mommy, I stinky poo poo!”
“Yes son, I think we all know!”
