Lucille Ball lives on.

Someone once commented here that my life reminds them of Lucille Ball on I Love Lucy. I have to say, her comparison wasn't off by much because the thing is, discombobulated moments just seem to find me. Allow me to share the great poo bomb incident if you will.

We were at Denny's tonight for dinner. Sure, it's not Shea Chic or anything, but they do put the most delicious cherry tomatoes on their salads (much better than Cracker Barrel's), our kids like the pizza, and hey, kids eat free on Saturday nights. It's all good. Well,...was good.

Before I go on, let me just say that my kids love soy milk. If you've heard some negative things about soy, let me just say that it's important to know who is behind the message (about soy, politics, or anything else for that matter). I've done my research and feel confident that it is best for our family. It's kind of like HRT, where women need to educate themselves and then make the decision that's best for their own situation. 'Nuff said.

So, they drink soy with the exception of Brandon. His system is too sensitive to it and he ends up with too frequent bowel movements (Oh, stop your gagging. Everybody poops).



Don'tcha know it, I got up this morning and we were out of cow's milk for Brandon so I had to tap into the kids' soy milk for his cereal and a glass for lunch. I figured that small amount couldn't hurt. Famous last words. Back to Denny's.

We finished eating our meal and were on our way out of the restaurant. Carl led the way from the back of the restaurant where we had been seated, through the aisle between rows of tables to the front. Behind him went our three oldest, then Brandon (who was walking) and about 10 paces after him, me.

I thought I smelled, you know, something.
"Couldn't be," I pondered, thinking about the glass of soy he drank at lunch time.
And then......the unthinkable happened.
I saw mud bunnies running down the back of his leg. Lovely (NOT!)
And what happened next (because that wasn't bad enough) will forever redefine gross as we know it.
A huge biscuit plopped out of his shorts, right in the middle of the aisle.
People, I'm telling you he launched a poo bomb smack in the middle of Denny's.

A dining establishment.

At dinner time.

While people were eating.

I felt a surge of adrenaline as I RAN to him (noting that the mud bunny trail was dangerously close to filling his shoes), scooped him up by the arm pits, and sprinted past dh as I groaned, "Carl! He dropped a log in the middle of the aisle!"

The look on Carl's face had the makings of a credit card commercial and I'm sooo not kidding.
The cost of a gallon of gas? $3.65
Cost of family meal at Denny's on kids eat free night? $22
The look on a guys' face when his wife frantically tells him that their son just pinched one off in the middle of Denny's? PRICELESS.

As I continued my marathon for the door (not wanting a repeat occurrence and not wanting poo puddles in Brandon's shoes), Carl looked back and noted the sizeable log laying right in the middle of the aisle. Half way back. How to get a napkin and casually pick it up before anyone noticed? You tell me.

By this time I had made it outside, where another log fell smack in the middle of the rubber mat that rested in front of the entry door. No time to pick it up. Must change seriously pooped up baby. Only..........

Where exactly does one lay a pooped up baby in a Denny's parking lot? On the sidewalk? In the blacktop parking lot? Folks, options were few and, as things usually play out in my world, I had no keys to open the van where I could have laid him on the floor to work on the major clean up to follow.

So, out of options, I chose the sidewalk. I couldn't wait and if you had been there, I assure you, you would not have waited either. He was a drippy brown mess. I frantically opened the diaper bag and dug to the bottom for that dinky plastic changing pad that comes with diaper bags. That'll teach me not to check these things out in advance because...naturally...no changing pad available.

So I grabbed a change of clothes, diaper and the wipes.
And,...Oh, lookie here! Swell and dandy. My kid is pooped to the max and I have two, count e'm, TWO wipes in the bag. I quickly emptied the wipes bag so I could use the plastic as a changing pad on the sidewalk (which would be akin to trying to cover a semi truck with a cocktail napkin). I had no choice. I was so pathetic desperate that I just got down to business, knowing how entirely insane I appeared to every passing soul.

May I suggest to you that there are these little moments that come up in life where you just don't care? You just don't give an owl's hoot about what the other person is thinking because they're not standing in your shoes (or your kid's shoes that are about to be poo filled any second) and sheesh, you just need to get 'er done.

Well, Carl walked out just then, but it was simply too late to move the dirty job to the car. I had already removed Brandon's shorts and diaper, and was busy cleaning him up with my two miracle wipes. Towering over me, Carl's eyes met mine. He wore a look of stress and slight humiliation. I too was feeling the defeat when suddenly I did what any supportive and rational thinking wife would do.
I burst out laughing.
"My wife done lost her mind," was what I read next in his eyes.
"It's all going so status quo," I mused.
Which made me laugh even harder.

Within seconds, I could not see through the tears to have the slightest clue what his next expression was. That is, until I heard him join me in my crazed fit of laughter.

It happened.
It really, really happened.
Our kid dropped a poo bomb in the middle of Denny's and his momma proceeded to change him on the sidewalk in a moment of desperation.

I don't dare say "end of story" though, until I tell you what Carl endured in the moments that followed my frantic exodus. As he noted the poo in the middle of the aisle, he immediately scanned the establishment for a napkin. According to him, it would have been easy to "just scoop it up like a dog pile."
That is, had he been successful in his napkin hunt.
You don't think he actually found one though, do you?
Remember, Lucille Ball here and Ricky Carl was to have no such luck.

But he did find a substitute.
A children's menu.
Uh huh, swell.
He said that every time he tried to get under the log to scoop it up, it rolled away.

And so....there he was. Squatted down in the middle of Denny's, chasing after a run-away log in front of complete strangers.
All while trying to remain incognito.
Deflated by a moment so surreal, it felt like a slapstick comedy. Seems fitting that I really did love Lucy.

Sometimes folks, sometimes, all you can do is laugh.

"If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it."
-Erma Bombeck

Toni