Urinetown

Never saw the play, but I’m living it. Monkey Man is completely potty trained and has been for quite some time now. Gone are the days of chunky baby legs and a squishy tooshy in diapers. I’ve found new things to buy with diaper money like more big boy underwear thanks to those times when Monkey Man waits until the ABSOLUTE LAST MINUTE to go potty and the pee explodes out of him like a kid holding a Super Soaker on a hot, humid day in July. Thereby super soaking the toilet and surrounding walls. I am very confident that my bathrooms are so clean you could theoretically¹ eat a Pop ‘Em off them because they are scrubbed down at least once a day due to my child’s camel-like quality of holding liquid in his body for hours on end.

Tonight, I discovered that not only do I need to watch out for my own child’s pee, I now need to be on the lookout for other small people’s bodily fluids. I took Monkey Man to our local McDonald’s for dinner. Hubby was working late, so I called a friend to meet us there for the kids to play in the play area. The play area is great when it’s cold out or raining in the summer. And I’m sure I’m not the only mom that tries really, really, really hard not to think about the viruses and other infectious diseases that lurk in those tubes, tunnels and slides. The play area ensures that the moms get at least 30-45 minutes of talk time while the kids are corralled because there is no way out unless you choose to ignore your spawn walking right past you out the door. Always an option.

My friend and I were happily chatting away. We yelled out an occasional, “Keep your socks on!” or “Don’t touch him!” but other than that, sentences were completed and tea and coffee were imbibed sans interruption. Until Monkey Man approached me.

Monkey Man: “Mommy, my pants are wet.”

Me: “Did you have an accident?”

Monkey Man: “No.”

Me: Upon inspection, the back of his pants were wet. So were the bottom of his pants, and his socks. The front of his pants were totally dry, so he definitely didn’t have an accident. I looked at my friend, grimaced and said, “I’m going to smell it.” I thought she was going to pass out. Hello, I’m doing the smelling!

The verdict: Dear God! My child sat in someone else’s pee! EWWWWWWWWWW!

We reported the incident, gathered the children, and all 5 of us puked in the parking lot.

1. Please note: I totally mean this in theory. I know I have professed my love of the Entenmann’s Pop ‘Em but I would never eat one off of a bathroom floor, not even my own. Not under any circumstance. Unless…, no, really, I wouldn’t do it.