Out of the mouths of babes.. comes our red faces!

[Guest guest]

I received the following in an email today and found it very fitting

to go along with the potty training discussion we had the other

night! I hope you enjoy as much as I did... I'm still giggling as I

type this.

J

3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall.

By Popkin

My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. People often comment on how

clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to

ask him to turn up the volume. It's always fully cranked. There've

been several embarrassing times that I've wished the meaning of his

words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never

have I wished this more than last week at Costco.

Halfway through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade with

me into the restroom. If you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom

that evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the

second to the last stall:

'Mommy, are you gonna go potty? Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper

on the potty, Mommy? Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now?

Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the

potty?' At this point I started mentally counting how many women had

been in the bathroom when I walked in. Several stalls were full ...

4? 5? Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my

debut out of this stall and reveal my identity. Cade

continued, 'Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren't you? Oh, dats a good

girl, Mommy! Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the

potty? Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh .. Mommy! I'm trying to

see in dere. Oh! I see dem. Dat is a very good girl, Mommy. You are

gonna get some candy!

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of

me. Where is a screaming new born when you need her? Good grief. This

was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time

before exiting.

Trying to divert him, I said, 'Why don't you look in Mommy's purse

and see if you can find some candy. We'll both have some!'

'No, I'm trying to see doze more stinkies. Oh! Mommy!' He started to

gag at this point. 'Uh oh, Mommy. I fink I'm gonna frow up. Mommy,

doze stinkies are making me frow up!! Dat is so gross!!' As the gags

became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall. I quickly

flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject. I began to

reason with myself: OK. There are four other toilets. If I count four

flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those who overheard this

embarrassing monologue will be long gone. 'Mommy! Would you get off

the potty, now? I want you to be done going stinkies! Get up! Get

up!' He grunted as he tried to pull me off. Now I could hear full-

blown laughter. I bent down to count the feet outside my door. 'Oh,

are you wooking under dere, Mommy? You wooking under da door?

What were you wooking at, Mommy? You wooking at the wady's feet?'

More laughter. I stood inside the locked

door and tried to assess the situation. 'Mommy, it's time to wash our

hands, now. We have to go out now, Mommy.' He started pounding on

the door. 'Mommy, don't you want to wash your hands? I want to go

out!!' I saw that my 'wait'em out' plan was unraveling. I sheepishly

opened the door, and found standing outside my stall, twenty to

thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all smiling and starting to

applaud. My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I

thought, 'Where's the fine print on the `motherhood contract ' where

I signed away every bit of my dignity and privacy?' But as my little

boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap between

his chubby little hands, I thought, I'd sign it all away again, just

to be known as Mommy to this little fellow.

( Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three. She lives

with her family in Grand Rapids Michigan , where she no longer uses

public restrooms)