The Waterworks

Last night, my son's elementary school had an outdoor event for the whole family!  Fun, fun, fun!  And it was, at least the first 20 minutes of it.

And then I realized that I needed to use the bathroom.  Badly.  And Violet was sitting on my lap.  Perhaps sitting is inaccurate -- she was sitting, sliding, climbing, bouncing, wiggling, melting, squiggling, poking, prodding, and jostling on my lap. 

And I had to pee.

Since we were outside, my super power of Crazy Allergies kicked into high gear.  And I started sneezing.  Every 45-60 seconds, as regular as Old Faithful.  And I don't sneeze tiny, dainty girl sneezes.  Nope, I sneeze sneezes that sound like car accidents, metal crunching metal, splintering glass -- horrible, hideous man-sneezes.

With Violet "sitting" on my lap.  While I had to pee.

I have given birth to an 8lb boy with the head of a two-year-old and an 8.5lb girl with an appropriately sized head.  Bladder control?  What's that?  Haven't seen you in years.

So this is adding up to a NOT GOOD situation for me.  I excuse myself and assume that since there are 350 people gathered on the lawn of the school, at least one door would be open so that someone could use a restroom. 

I was wrong.  Painfully, waddling like a sick duck wrong. 

I weighed my options:

1.  Run to my office 4 blocks away.
2.  Go to the car, grab some wipes, and relieve myself behind something.
3.  Track down someone with keys in that sea of people, oh, did I mention the program was starting?
4.  Drive somewhere with a bathroom as fast as I can.

My only real option was #4.  So, if you happened to be at the public library last night around 7:55 and noticed a woman flying through the stacks to the bathroom and heard her practically cry with relief as she peed like an elephant, yep, that was me.