July 29, 2005

The Difference in Boys, Part I

This is the 1st part of the difference between my aged boys (6, 8, and 10) and small boys (2-4) and restrooms...

When we were in Atlanta, we went out to eat at a pizza place called The Mellow Mushroom. The restaurant has a kind of welcoming atmosphere… there were families, guys at the bar, people on dates. It was fun.

Of course, half way through dinner, I get the infamous, “Mom, I have to pee” from Bones. When I’m in a place I don’t know, but feel like its small enough that I feel ‘safe’, I’ll let him go into the men’s room by himself. He really really hates my having to take him to the Ladies’ room. But it usually goes like this:

Me: You have 2 minutes. I will be standing by the door watching my watch. If you do not come out in 2 minutes, I’m coming in there after you. Do you understand?

Bones: Yes

Me: How much time do you have?

Bones: 2 minutes.

Me: What will I do if you’re not out in 2 minutes?

Bones: Come in after me.

Heh. Now you male readers know, if you find a short Celtic woman continually checking her watch outside the restroom, and there is a little boy in there, she fully intends to come racing in there should she need to… there is no modesty about her when there is concern with regard to her boys…

It is somewhat of a ritual. Depending on where we are, sometimes I have all three go in together. If it’s a really scary place, like a frickin’ rest stop on the side of a highway, they all come into the Ladies’ room with me.

So here we are at the Mellow Mushroom and Bones has to use the bathroom, and he’s inside, and he comes out in his 2 minute window. I go through my next ritual, the questions of “Did you wash your hands?” “Did you touch anything after you washed them?” Blech.

As we’re sitting at the table, Bones points out this nice looking guy, probably in his mid 30s. He says, “See that guy. He’s the guy that got me paper towels after I washed my hands.”

Let me just say, that if it were me sitting there giving advice to God on Judgment Day, I’d be saying, “Put a couple extra punches in that Heaven ticket. He helped my son in the Men’s room.”

Yesterday we were at breakfast with VW and her boys. Bones had to use the restroom and since I knew the restaurant well and as we were sitting close to the bathrooms, I let him go alone… telling him I was watching the clock.

Five minutes passed and he didn’t come out. I sent my eldest to go find him and see what was up. Seconds later they both came out and I looked at Son#1 quizzically. His reply was, “He was standing in the middle of the bathroom… and couldn’t reach the paper towels.”

I gave him an odd look and said, “What was he doing, just standing there waiting for someone to come in and hand him one?”

My eldest shrugged and said, “Yeah. I guess so.”

I need to rethink this thing about his going alone until he gets a little taller...

Posted by Boudicca at July 29, 2005 10:53 PM | TrackBack

Heheh... poor guy.

At least #1 didn't come back and report that he was standing there licking the marble counter! ;)

Posted by: That 1 Guy at July 29, 2005 11:35 PM

LOL! I love the literal way their minds work.

Yesterday, I was hanging up laundry and asked Tara to see if I had left any clothes in the machine. She took her task very seriously. Came back, empty-handed, and said, "Yes. There are three socks and a facecloth in there."

I forget they often don't get implication!

Poor Bones. Standing there waiting to grow :-)

Posted by: Sally at July 30, 2005 07:01 AM

Poor little guy! Very cute!

Posted by: Jen H at August 1, 2005 08:28 PM