Randy and Shari's World

OK, so Micah is starting to develop some interesting fears. His latest is of automatic flush toilets. I can’t say that I blame him too much either on this one, because they are actually REALLY annoying! They flush 8 times while you’re sitting on them, and then when you’re done they won’t flush, even if you jump up and down and bob back and forth, and so you have to reach down and try to push random buttons and switches until it flushes, and then run out of the stall crazy fast because they flush with an intensity that is matched only by a 2 year old’s tantrum when he is refusing to sit on such a toilet.

So tonight we had to take him to a bathroom that contained these toilets. I was so happy that Randy was with us so that he could be in charge, while I calmly went into the ladies room and did my thing in peace. When I came back out, I couldn’t see them, but I could hear Micah screaming. I saw that they had originally entered the Men’s room, but then realized the screams were coming from the “Family Restroom” (which is a rather odd and semi-frightening invention in the first place) so I knocked on the door, praying that it really WAS my child that I was hearing and not some other poor soul that I was attempting to barge in on, and was let in by Randy (who told me that yes, they had originally gone into the men’s room, but that Micah was making such a scene, so Randy gave him the choice of which bathroom to use and Micah chose the family one).

Micah was sitting as far as possible from the toilet, screaming his now bright-red head off, while Randy was trying to calmly explain to him that “Daddy fixed it, honey. It won’t flush now until I take my jacket away.” Yes, he had painstakingly installed his jacket behind the toilet, over the sensor-thingy with the red light, but very much away from the toilet bowl/seat itself. (This is one of the many advantages of being married to a rocket scientist – I myself being mystified as to how these toilets [supposedly] know when to flush – that he can solve these problems for us). Micah wasn’t buying it, however and was crying about “I want to sit on your lap” to Randy. Randy explained to me that he had told Micah that he would sit on the potty underneath Micah so Micah could pee! Can you imagine? I pictured them both naked, sitting there in this male bonding (sort of) experience of almost certain disaster as far as both of them ending up wet in all the wrong places. But then Randy explained that he meant to keep himself fully dressed and just sit back real far on the potty while Micah did his business further up (fortunately they are both rather small people!!). So I was rather impressed with Randy’s willingness to do such a thing (desparate times call for desparate measures, and having your child scream very loudly in a crowded mall only weeks away from Christmas on a Friday night when you’re really hungry is one of those times) and so I said, “OK, go for it” so relieved that for once, HE had to do the really embarassing thing and not me!! But then (maybe because some sort of ESP from James, who has been rather kind in not mentioning to me how long it has been since I’ve last blogged, reached Micah) Micah turned to me and tearfully said, “I want to sit on YOUR lap, Mommy.” Hmm. Just when I thought I was safe! So I considered my options: A) respond with, “Well, Daddy really wants to do it, do you think you could sit on his lap?” B) Say, “You know what? You probably don’t have to go that badly, and since this is so scary for you, maybe we should just go eat and you can give it another try later” or C) Say, “OK fine” (while giving “why me?” looks to Randy) “but only if I can blog about it so at least there is some value in it besides simply avoiding an accident at the food court.”

I chose option C and bravely asked Randy if he had indeed THOROUGHLY wiped the seat off before I sat on it with all my clothes on. (He had). While Micah, who seemed nearly perfectly happy at this point and only mildly distrustful of the toilet (he was still questioning the power of the jacket to truly prevent it from flushing, but was really starting to believe us that it wouldn’t flush until we took the jacket away, and if he preferred, we could wait until Mommy and Micah left the bathroom before Daddy took it away) was getting his pants down, Randy pointed out that there would not be enough room for Micah to fit in front of me because my big belly was taking up a lot of valuable sitting space. So I moved back as far as I could and actually stood more than sat I think, hoping that I wouldn’t accidently knock the almighty jacket from its post and ruin potty-training forever, and Randy set Micah on the potty. I held onto him from behind so that he would feel safe and we spoke soothingly to him about the joys of going pee pee and all that good stuff. He went, but very quickly said, “my all done” and wanted to get down right away so that he could keep an eye on the flushing situation.

It all turned out fine, and he chose to stay inside the bathroom while the toilet flushed, but not anywhere near the toilet.

So what I decided is this: If I can invent some kind of little mechanism that blocks the stupid sensor, that can fit in wallets/purses/pockets, and advertise it in parenting magazines and such, all our financial troubles will be over!