3/17/03
The clock is ticking on how long I have before it's no longer acceptable to bring Allie into public restrooms with me.
Last night, in Wal-Mart, Allie was sitting in a stall in the men's room. I stood guard outside while she explained to me why the stall door had to be completely closed. Each time I'd peak inside to check on her progress she would turn her head away and hold out her hand as if she was trying to keep the paparazzi at bay. "I need privacy, Daddy!" she yelled.
This situation wasn't perfect. But it was far better than other trips we've made to public restrooms. Like the time in Target when I found myself stuffed in a stall with Allie repeatedly yelling, "Spread you legs! Sweetie, please spread you legs!"
I know that there are security cameras in these type facilities. The video tape of Madelyne Toogood beating her four-year-old in a parking lot flashed through my mind. I saw myself on the news, in grainy black and white, scurrying around trying to prevent my daughter from forming a canal with her legs that delivered urine past the toilet and on to the bathroom floor.
Just so you know, I was unsuccessful as far as the canal effect went. I wound up mopping pee with wads of paper towel as Allie stood, bow legged, in the middle of the men's bathroom with her pants around her ankles waiting for her legs to dry.
Fortunately, no one walked in on us in Target's restroom. And the person watching the security camera's monitor obviously missed the incident while it was happening or he/she has a three-year-old. Either way, I made it out of the bathroom without wearing handcuffs.
So, getting back to the Wal-Mart; Alex finally finished in the stall. As she exited a man walked in. He went to the urinal and began the process of elimination when Alex said, "I need to wash my hands, Daddy." The man turned around and looked at Alex. He saw pink shoes, pink pants, pink shirt, pink hat... He halted his process of elimination and dove into a stall.
I kind of froze there for a moment. Alex was asking to wash her hands and I was formulating an apology for the guy we just traumatized. After what seemed like a long time, I scooped up Allie and got out of there.
"I need to wash my hands. Why can't I wash my hands?" Allie wanted to know.
"We're not washing hands today," I said.
"Why not?"
"It's too close to St. Patrick's Day."
"Oh."
Apparently this explanation actually made sense to her.
So it looks like public bathroom visits will be the exclusive domain of Debbie. When Debbie's not around, Alex will simply have to wait until:
A) We get home.
B) She finds a dimly lit, quiet corner in the Wal-Mart.
C) Daddy learns how to work a catheter.
D) She passes out and wets her pants anyway.