Guest Post from my Wife

Michael Lorenzo is semi-potty trained. About 90% of the time, he tells me when he needs to go to the toilet. The other 10% is pretty awful, but bearable. I usually put him in a nappy when we go out, due to my fear that the bearable 10% could be unbearable out of the house. But I've been feeling that putting him in a nappy when he's practically trained might hurt his self-esteem. So, today I boldly decided to take him out without a nappy. I took Lia and nappy-free Michael to Barnes and Noble (to you foreigners, it's an amazing, humongous book shop). 

We walk right past the enormous cookbook section, where I briefly pause to long for alone time, and head straight to the kids' section. I sit down to read a book to Lia, while Michael stands next to us playing with this really cool train set. A couple of minutes later, I turn to look at Michael. He wasn't playing with the trains. He looked worried. I walk over to him, and the stench nearly knocks me to the floor. I stopped for a moment to acknowledge that somehow, in my 6 years of parenting, I never had to deal with this. I never had a stinky nappy-less kid in a public place before. I actually saw the positive in this and I felt good for a moment. 

The moment passed when I picked him up, and a huge glob of shit falls out of his pants and falls splat onto my sandal. I quickly look into my bag and can't find any wipes to wipe my sandal/foot. While I'm looking through my bag, another big glob of shit falls onto the carpet. And then there was another one, and this one seemed to fall in slow motion. I really don't know what I was thinking but I held out my hand and caught it. The carpet, Michael my sandal and my foot were covered in shit, and I was holding a not very well formed turd in my right hand. Lia was watching this, laughing hard. I said "Lia, drop the book NOW, we're going to the bathroom." She said, "Forget about it, I'm not going anywhere with you two." Which made a lot of sense, but she is 6 and I couldn't leave her. I told her that if she doesn't come with me I'll pick her up and carry her to the bathroom. I was holding Michael in one hand, which meant the only hand I could use to lift her was the one holding shit. She reassessed, and ran with us to the bathroom. Which, of course, was out of toilet paper. So I went and found an employee, who looked at me with utter horror.

Bad things have happened to me in my life. I think this was the worst. I tell you my tale because I want you to remember this at times when life makes you sad. Know that it could always be worse.