Breakfast With Little People

September 5, 2007

This morning, I took the boys to Chick-fil-a for breakfast, because, you know, they have the fabulous chicken biscuit. Only I was retarded. I asked for a number 4. Then I realized that was on a bagel, and would probably be too much food for me. I asked to change it to a number 5. I thought I was getting a chicken biscuit with egg and cheese. Only I ordered the wrong sandwich and there was no chicken, so I was very disappointed. We sat down next to a father with his toddler boy and baby girl, who immediately refused to eat and spent the next half hour turned around in their seats, waving at my boys and saying hi. I felt kinda guilty at having compromised their nice meal. He was a big man, with a buzzed head and a great fat belly. The back of his neck, as my sister always says, looked like a pack of hot dogs. I couldn't stop staring at it, thanking the sweet Lord that while I might be fat, at least I don't have back-of-the-neck fat.
Halfway through our meal, as usual, Collin loudly said, "OK, I have to go POO POO real BAD!" I told him he would have to wait until Booah was done with his breakfast--I was worried that if we left all our food on the table, it would be cleaned up for us. And of course, I couldn't very well leave Noah there to eat by himself. Collin proceeded to squirm and complain and demand that Noah hurry up. In an even louder voice, and much to the amusement of Hot Dog Neck and the men seated next to us, he said, "MAMA, MAYBE THE POO POO WILL GO BACK UP IN MY HOLE!" I nearly spit my coffee all over the table, and then if it wasn't so funny, I probably would have hid under it with embarrassment.
He made it to the bathroom in time. Then we went to the play area, and Booah promptly pooped in his diaper. We cut the playtime short and went to the truck to change him...no diaper bag. We went across the street to the Target and bought diapers and wipes, cause it's not like they won't get used. Then we proceeded to look for the ever-elusive Lightning McQueen bike for Collin's birthday. I gave up and ordered it online, and had to spend an ungoldy amount of money to have it shipped 2nd day air. And then there was the Lightning McQueen helmet & knee pad set, and it actually cost more to ship it 2nd day than the set itself. Needless to say, I'm not waiting as long to buy Cameron's birthday gift.
After we came home, Booah pooped three more times. And I forgot to mention that he pooped once when he first got up. And he pooped once this evening. Sooner or later, you start to take it personally. It's like he's just doing it to get a rise out of us. Add Collin, and poop takes up a significant portion of the day. At least Cam poops by herself now. But you know, I wouldn't have it any other way. I am very grateful for my children, especially since I've just learned of this family in Pasadena whose daughter Kamryn just died of leukemia. She was only 8, like my daughter. She had red hair, like my daughter. She danced, like my daughter. It just makes me extra-grateful for these little people I have running around, pooping and screaming, making messes and fighting. Because I can still kiss them goodnight. I can still hold them when they get a skinned knee. I don't have to say goodbye, and learn how to live without them. Yep, I'm pretty thankful for poop.