Cha cha cha.

Today Mason and I went to Target. We go there a lot. The kid sees red carts and the big bulls eye and starts clapping and pointing and "ooohhhing" and "ahhhhing". We made the usual rounds: women's clothing, baby section, jewelry, milk, seasonal. I threw what I needed into the cart and as I was swiping my card I got that feeling. Not the Wheeling feeling, that feeling. The one where you are like, "NOW. Where is the bathroom? NOW NOW NOW NOW!!!" Problem is, I had already purchased my loot and I had an increasingly antsy 10 month-old in my cart.

I did not have time to put the bags in the car, I did not have time to drive home, I was not leaving my already-purchased items outside the bathroom (let alone my child), I will not eat green eggs and ham, I will not eat them Sam I am. So I did what any desperate mother who does not wear adult diapers would do: I grabbed my purse, child, gallon of milk, 2 kind-of heavy bags and I ran to the bathroom. I took the handicapped stall, hung up my purse (Coach, haaaallllo), one of the bags and put the rest of it on ::shudders:: the floor. Yes, including the kid. Trust, those rickety hooks are NOT strong enough to hold my little man.

I did...well I did what I needed to do all while keeping Mason in the standing position by securing his little hands on my knees and off of the toilet seat. When finished, I grabbed the boy, and the purse and I washed my hands. It was then that I turned around and realized that the stall door had shut AND locked itself behind me. MOTHER! I wanted to cry, I wanted to run, I wanted that new bathing suit that was in my bags! What else was I supposed to do? I sat Mason on the ground and army crawled my ass into the stall, unlocked the door, grabbed my shit and ran. I barely made it back to my cart without dropping my child. I must have looked SUPER classy.

At least it was early morning and the store was filled with other moms that needed to escape their homes. At least I am not showing any signs of infectious diseases, yet. Lastly, as least I didn't poop my pants.