Brooklyn was just taking a pooh and it reminded me of Chic Filet. I haven't fully disclosed our Chic Filet Venture and I haven't the time to do so at the moment... but I just have to record this memorable event before I wait too long and forget to do it. (So many funny stories left un-shared...).
While making one of our MANY bathroom trips from the Chic Filet Parking Lot in Slidell to the INSIDE (such a delicacy of comfort... air conditioning...) we encountered a very INTERESTING individual. We walked into the bathroom and a lady, large in stature and probably in her fifties, was making her way into a stall. Brooklyn and I took the other one. I told Brooklyn to wait a minute for me to change Brighton's diaper before I put her on the toilet.
WELL, in the MEAN time, the bathroom monologue began in the other stall. Her toilet flushed. "Ooo there goes my paper." I thought that perhaps she was trying to make conversation so I politely said, "Yeah these toilets will suck you down if you don't watch out." Seriously. They are like air plane toilets except they flush ALL by themselves.
Then the straining began. I mean strains of AGONY. "UUUUGHUUGH! OOOOH!" My eyes widened a bit. I hurriedly threw Brooklyn on the pot. "Go POTTY!" I chirped merrily trying to rush her along. Brooklyn is a quick go-pee-er and we can usually be IN and OUT. She's not a staller anymore. WELL. She peed. So I'm trying to yank her off the potty and she's yelling, "No! Mommy I'm NOT done." Then the SMELL starts.
"Man...UUUUGH... I'm trying to get it out... COME ON...." murmured Lady Go Go. 'OH MY GOSH. I'm going to DIE,' I decided. I heard the splash of her dooky hitting the water. "AAAAh...that's better..." the owner of the stench murmured. I started gagging. "ARE you DONE, BROOKLYN???" I ask her nearly turning purple from holding my breath. "Nope."
I stuck my whole face inside my t-shirt. GROSS!!! I gagged again. I, having been outside in the scorching heat, smelled like a stinky man's sweaty armpit. (Mixed with soured milk).'SICK! I HAVE to get OUT of HERE!' I thought again. I contemplated running out of the bathroom with Brighton tucked under my arm like a football and yelling for Starling to go retrieve Brooklyn. But... I figured he wouldn't go for it since she was in the GIRL's bathroom.
I glanced at Brooklyn. She was doubled over. Her face was a tomato. "MOMMY" she said through gritted teeth "I. Need. Help. It's. TOO... HARD," she strained. 'Oh FABULOUS. Now Brooklyn is going to think she needs to bathroom talk about her bowel movements, TOO!' I thought.
"Ughgh..." moaned Captain Terd. "Oooooowww..." moaned Brooklyn. "GAG GAG." ME.
Then a group of unsuspecting Chic Filet-ers entered the bathroom. "Oh my gosh! I have to pee like SOO BAD!" chirped one.
"I'm trying to finish. I'm constipated," explained Poopsie. 'You neither SOUND NOR SMELL constipated,' I contemplated yelling.
"Mommy its too hard...." Brooklyn moaned. Then a friend of the Toilet queen came in to check on her. "Are you okay?" She answered, out of breath from straining and grunting, "I just don't know if I can finish..." Her friend stately bluntly, "Well. I can't help ya there." And she split. I finally decided I'd rather Brooklyn POOP in a BUSH outside then me be in there any longer. My EYES were burning. Just as I was trying to think of a way to justify to Brooklyn that it was okay for her NOT to finish pooping in the potty she announced, "I'm all DONE."
I've never washed our hands so fast in my LIFE.
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