Lately, young Jamie’s bathroom rituals have reached an almost comically predictable level. And by predictable, I mean utterly exasperating. No matter the setting—be it our home, a restaurant, or a friend’s place—the moment everyone settles down to eat, I inevitably hear the familiar cry, “Mom, I need to go!” Sure, he’s five, but I have zero interest in cleaning up messes, so I dutifully escort my beloved child to the restroom. I apologize for the imagery.
Just the other night, while we were out dining, as the waitress placed my meal in front of me, Jamie declared his belly hurt and insisted he could not wait. Off we went, hand in hand, toward the restroom.
I can’t recall the exact details of our conversation that evening, but I can assure you it revolved almost exclusively around bodily functions. To the growing line of women outside waiting for their turn, each impatient knock against the door accompanied by my shout of “We’re almost done!” probably sounded quite different from the reality inside. I imagine it resembled something far more lighthearted.
“Hurry up, sweetheart. I’d like to enjoy my dinner while it’s still hot.”
Grunt.
Grunt.
“Are you finished yet? Seriously.”
Grunt. Giggle. Grunt.
“My love, you’ll have to handle this solo next time, messy or not.”
Grunt.
“I’m really losing my appetite here, buddy.”
Grunt. Grunt. Grunt.
“We’re not repeating this scenario. Focus!”
Grunt. GRUNT.
“Finally! Let’s clean up and head back; I’m starving.”
Giggle.
For the record, it was not exactly a pleasant intermission for me. This amusing chaos of parenthood is a reminder that sometimes, humor is our best ally.
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In summary, navigating the unpredictable world of parenthood often leads to humorous, albeit frustrating, experiences—especially when it involves bathrooms and timing.