Last week, I needed to go to the craft store. I had to purchase some scrap booking shit and casting materials to make a belly cast of Mindbling’s baby bump. I am not real big on craft stores. The people who shop in them frighten me. Especially people who SEW. Sewing is so weird. All those sheets of fabric, hanging there, not being shirts…I don’t like it. It kind of freaks me out.
Anyway, it was after lunch time when I decided to head out to the giant craft emporium that is close to where I live. I already knew that Smiley was tired, but I figured what the hell, what’s the worst that could happen? He has a hissy in the store? Wouldn’t be the first time.
We pulled into the parking lot and I realized that Smiley was fast asleep in his car seat. If he falls asleep in the car, he usually wakes up the second you unfasten his seatbelt. But not that day. I picked him up and he remained asleep. I walked in the store and he remained asleep. I put him in the cart and he STILL remained asleep. He put his little head on my hand and just continued to sleep and drool.
I figured what the hell, he is asleep, may as well examine the craft store. I walked down all the aisles, I looked at cake decorating, cross stitching, flower making, et cetera and so on. I found almost the EXACT veil and tiara that I wore to my wedding for about 200 dollars cheaper. I tried to avoid making eye contact with The Sewing Ladies. I know you know what I am talking about. They travel in packs of two to four, they dye their hair shades of red that do not appear in nature, they wear shirts with pictures of kittens on them, and they kind of smell like moth balls.
This particular store is gigantic, so by the time I made it from one side of the store to the other, it had been about twenty minutes. I had finally arrived at scrap booking materials. I removed my hand from underneath Smiley’s head and he remained asleep in the cart.
I was comparing this and that, trying to decide what I wanted to buy and all of a sudden I heard a sound that very much resembled water hitting a floor. I look over at Smiley…still sleeping. I look down. Smiley is peeing, through his shorts and directly onto the floor. Damn those three Capri Suns he had drank earlier in the day! I tried to shake him a little bit to wake him up but he would not budge.
I panicked! The puddle on the floor was very small…and clear, so you could not even tell that it was pee. It was mostly Smiley’s pants and shirt had taken the brunt of the liquid. I had nothing to clean it up with, so yes, I was the asshole. I put my scrap booking materials back and tried to hightail it out of there.
It was right around this point that Smiley woke up. He rubbed his little eyes and looked at me. His little lip began to quiver and he cried, “Mommmmmyyyyyy, I peeeeeeeed, I peeeeed…ohhhhh nooooo!!” This kid is POTTY TRAINED. He NEVER has accidents anymore, not even at night. So having an accident is devastating in his mind. I pick him up, out of the cart, and attempt to walk out the big automatic doors. And for some GODFORSAKEN REASON, they won’t effing work. Of course not. Why would they?? So now, I have to go allllllll the way, back around the registers, to the other doors, thus exposing my crying child and his peed on clothing to everyone standing in line. Oh yeah! Mommy of the year, right hear y’all!
I get out to my car and look for some clothing to change him into. I find a pair of E-man’s shorts that are way too big, and an ugly red shirt. SCORE!! It’ll do. As I am undressing him in the parking lot, all I keep thinking about is that tiny little puddle of pee. I keep worrying that one of The Sewing Ladies will walk over towards that aisle, slip on the pee puddle, and break their hip. I could just see the headline…PEARL JOHNSON, 68, AVID SEWER OF CLOTHING FOR CATS, SLIPS ON MYSTERIOUS PUDDLE ON FLOOR OF CRAFT STORE AND BREAKS HIP. POLICE ARE INVESTIGATING.
I then reminded myself that this thinking was totally irrational. I started to laugh as I sped out of the parking lot, only glancing back once to see if any craft store employees were chasing me with a bucket and mop. I called Mindbling. “Did you get the casting material?” she asked. “Um…I am on my way to a smaller craft store. There was an…incident.”
“Did The Sewing Ladies give you a panic attack again?” she asked. “No, Smiley did. He pissed on the floor.” Mindbling laughed. “See, Hot Mama, he’s NOT girlie. He obviously hates crafts.”
Sigh. I love the glamorous life.