It’s a universal truth that kids always need to use the bathroom at the most inopportune moments. Whether it’s right after you buckle them into the car, just as you’re about to head inside a restaurant, or the minute the movie starts, it’s a relentless cycle. The worst scenario for me is when I’ve finally settled into a nice meal, fully relishing the fact that I didn’t have to cook or clean up. This happens with alarming frequency in our household, and let me tell you, it can be quite draining, especially for the stay-at-home parents like me who handle these restroom escapades solo nearly all the time.
One lovely spring afternoon, I decided to take my three kids out for lunch and thought it would be delightful if my husband joined us. Just as we sat down with our sandwiches at a bustling local sub shop, my youngest piped up louder than necessary, “I have to poop!” Predictably, my daughter decided she couldn’t hold it either. Apparently, it was the perfect time to make a family trip to the public restroom — the more, the merrier!
I glanced at my husband, who was eagerly anticipating his meatball sub, and raised my eyebrows at him. “I do this all the time. You’ll be fine.”
“Alone? Can’t you come?” I could see the concern in his eyes.
Since there was only one family restroom, and with our kids being just 3 and 4 years old and still needing assistance, he would have to take them both in together. They had been vocal about their urgent need, so it was definitely better for everyone involved that they did their business in the restroom rather than in the booth next to me.
“It’ll be easier this way,” I reassured him, fully aware I was fibbing, but my hunger was taking precedence. It was a rare opportunity for me to actually enjoy a meal without interruptions. I had honed my skills in navigating public restrooms with kids while my husband was still a novice. He often wonders why I don’t take the kids out more, and now he was about to find out.
As I savored my lunch and engaged in light conversation with my oldest, I could hear the chaos unfolding in the restroom — a cacophony that was audible to anyone waiting in line. After what felt like an eternity, my youngest burst out of the bathroom, looking disheveled, his pants askew. He proudly announced, “Mom, my poop was this long,” demonstrating with his hands to the amusement of the other patrons.
A bit later, my husband emerged with our daughter, looking like he had just survived a battle. “Those kids need a bath when we get home,” he declared, clearly shaken by the experience.
While he had taken them to the bathroom before, he had never done so without me managing the other child, and it was clear he had just encountered the reality of solo parenting in public. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. It was the first meal in over six years where I hadn’t had to leap up to attend to someone else’s needs.
As parents, we often celebrate the little victories, and this one was significant for me — though not for my husband. While he is generally a hands-on dad, he learned an important lesson that day: managing multiple kids in a public space can quickly turn into a chaotic ordeal.
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In summary, my parenting success during that lunch was a challenging moment for my husband, but it was alright. He learned firsthand what I deal with regularly, and I had the rare chance to enjoy a meal uninterrupted.