The girls and I had a busy day ahead of us. We had to run to the Dollar Store, the grocery store and get ready for going away party for our babysitter. Lauren was coming over at noon to watch the girls so I could go get the cleaning I had been putting off for months because I am petrified of the dentist. Then we were going to have cake and give her hugs, wish her luck and try not to sob.
We got ready and actually out of the house in a respectable amount of time. We arrived at the Dollar Store and each girl set off to get their gifts for Lauren. I love to do this with the girls because they pick out things that I wouldn't even look twice at. Ever. And, yet I am paying for them. But only a dollar.
Emmeline starts the shopping by picking out a solar powered flower thing that wiggles. "Yoren needs dis for her woom." Lena picked up some fancy erasers "in case Lauren makes a mistake on her work." Snugadoo socks tossed into the basket for when Lauren needs to be cozy. A tiny stuffed animal to snuggle with at night. Puzzles if she gets bored or lonely. A tree that may or may not grow crystal meth.
We are about $10 into this excursion when I notice Emmeline doing a potty dance in the aisle. Oh. Crap. I grab her and run to ask where the ladies room is. The cashier looks for the key. And looks. And keeps looking while Emmeline is dancing around in her precursor to imminent doom. (I may have to find a $1 pair of pants...). Then she remembers that someone already has it.
We dash down aisle one toward the bathroom. Lena gets to the door a few steps ahead of us and knocks. We hear "Um, I'm going to be a few minutes" at the same time that I notice the woman's shopping cart. It was the homeless person I saw a little while earlier. My insides curdle. Ok, need to think about option 2.
Emmeline is squirming and saying "me need potty." My forehead is beaded up in sweat from exertion of carrying a 25 pound wiggly toddler plus a basket full of goodies and running up and down the aisles of the store. My time is limited. Everything else around us is closed and I can't drive somewhere. We have run out of time. I open the trunk of my SUV and pull out the emergency potty. Emmeline is sitting in the back of my car relieving herself. At this moment I notice that Lena has stolen cheerleader pom poms and yelling in the megaphone-cone-thingy. She has decided to cheer her sister on. Very loudly. In the parking lot.
"Go Emmeline go! P-O-T-T-Y! You can do it! P-O-O-P! Hooray!" We are the train wreck that people are now driving around the parking lot to cruise by. At least half a dozen cars park around us. I am totally mortified. And wondering where the heck I'm going to empty this potty. And, praying she doesn't accidentally spill it in the back of my car. And, hoping that my cheerleader doesn't misspell her cheer. Because that would be so awkward.
Emmeline gets out of the car and is holding a stolen teddy bear. Mint. Now I am harboring two criminals in front of many witnesses. I have to empty a very full potty discreetly, which is so easy with all these people gaping at us. Then go back to pay for our absconded items. We head off to complete the rest of our shopping without too many more laws being broken. And, we escape the grocery store unscathed (except for giant fight about whether lemon flavor is really pudding). And the brawl about the AWESOME cake for Lauren (which resulted in the cake being dropped upside down and then re-iced with tiny fingers). It was a lovely spectacle. The Coca-Cola guy told me I was the most hilarious mom he's ever seen. Thanks, I think.
Somehow we make it home without committing any more crimes. Lauren arrives and I dash off to the dentist appointment. I am actually looking forward to time by myself, even if it has to be at the dentist. I have chosen a new dentist that specializes in sedation dentistry. I have been blessed with soft teeth was tortured as a child as a result. Every appointment results in a near panic attack for me. I spend the entire time white knuckled while someone with a vendetta against people or teeth or gums hacks away at my plaque. I'm gagging on the blood and minty torture while I'm trying to not jump out of my skin and run away.
I settle into the seat and am all ready for a mouthful of x-rays and cleaning under the influence of nitrous oxide. There's a reason I don't drink often nor have I ever touched drugs: because I SUCK AT IT. I'm floating in and out of consciousness while the dentist is talking to me about who the hell knows what. I may have promised her my first born. And a pony. I was probably in contention for new patient of the year. Until I puked on her.
The rest of the appointment was a blur. I kind of remember stumbling to the ladies room to change into an emergency outfit. And, I sort of remember the rest of the cleaning where I had convinced myself that it was all some trippy dream that I puked on the dentist. Until I came to. Blah blah periodontal disease and all I can focus on is that I puked on the freakin dentist.
Then I was walk of shaming it all the way to the car with my bag full of puke clothes.
I make it home to send my babysitter off to college. Complete with her crystal meth tree and squished awesome cake. I guess feeling like I may puke my goodbye allowed me to let her go without me getting all sappy (which she would totally hate). So, it may have been a barfy blessing in disguise. Now I just have to do the reverse walk of shame and bring the emergency outfit back to the dentist.
The good news is the crystal meth tree has made it to college and is in full bloom:
|Trippy crystally goodness...|