...to turn this rig around.
I've never heard that country song, but Scott immediately thought of it when I told him this story.
We had been out running errands all morning. It was lunchtime, the kids were complaining of hunger, Luke was giving me the 5-minute "feed me now or I'll lose it completely" warning, and my stomach was seconding the motion.
I decided to drive through Wendy’s, order off the 99-cent value menu, and then nurse Luke in the van while the kids ate. This would get us on our way much faster than traipsing everyone into the restaurant, plus give me privacy. The weather was nice. It was a perfect plan.
Until I recognized a trademark look of distress on one of the kids, who shall remain nameless. I asked, even though I knew the answer. "Do you need to go potty?"
Their kneejerk response is always “No.” This time, after a brief pause and the pained look worsened, they changed their answer. "Yes."
Based on the way they were moving, I could tell I had about 60 seconds to get myself and three kids out of the van and into the restroom. I threw open the van's sliding door and discovered that with the infant seat in place and myself inside the van, I could barely squeeze my still-shrinking belly between it and the driver's seat.
Precious seconds lost. Then, as I whisked the infant carrier out, I discovered that, in my haste, I had just plopped Luke back into his seat without strapping!
No time. I'd just be really really really really careful.
We set out across the parking lot as I used my best hands-free herding abilities to urge the kids in the general direction of the door. I can only imagine what all the cars in the drive-thru line thought as they witnessed the peculiar walk, desperate-faced mom, and unbuckled baby.
Miraculously, we made it in, found the restroom, and crowded into the extra-large handicapped stall, where I plopped the needy child onto the toilet just in time.
They were done quickly, I wiped them clean, and they hopped down.
Oh. My. Heavens.
We all stood around the toilet, gaping. Both kids were admiring The Log that had been deposited. I couldn't believe my child had managed to give birth to it without an epidural. As they oogled, I made a mental bet with myself. "Twenty bucks says you won't get out of here without plunging this toilet yourself."
I summoned my courage and bravely flushed, visions of nastiness pouring onto the floor dancing in my head.
The Log turned sideways and firmly established itself as a fixture in the toilet. One piece of good fortune – it was so long that it implanted above the drain hole and water could flow freely around it.
I flushed again. It didn't budge. Again. And again nothing happened.
I have to confess. I briefly entertained the thought of just leaving it. Perhaps no female had seen us race in.
But I immediately remembered my days as a Subway restaurant employee. I would have thrown up to walk into our restroom and found such a thing. I could not in good conscience leave it.
I girded my loins and stepped up. “Step back, kids. I have to take care of this.”
“What are you going to do, Mom?”
“I’m going to turn it.”
“WITH YOUR BARE HANDS????” They were both awe-struck and shocked. I am the same mom who almost lost it completely when they finger-painted the bathroom with poop a few months ago, when I found poop-balls under beds, and when I found more finger-painting on the carpet in bedrooms. I’m sure my shrieks of “You DON’T TOUCH POOP!” were still ringing in their ears.
“No. With toilet paper.”
The timing would be critical on this operation. I grabbed a thick wad of toilet paper. I flushed, and as soon as the water drained out, briefly exposing The Log, I grabbed it with my wad of paper and turned it.
It snapped in two and 2/3 of it actually moved. I held my breath as it shot down the drain hole. Whew. It didn’t get stuck again.
Encouraged, I grabbed another wad of toilet paper, flushed again, and shoved the remaining Stump. It too disappeared, without lodging anywhere else.
Whew. What a narrow escape. As we left, I made a note to add Benefiber to everyone’s drinks from now on.
