Once upon a time a Mommy and Daddy took their sweet little girl to the playground. She played happily for a very long time. Then – oh no! – she had to pee! There were no bathrooms at the playground and the little girl could not hold it much longer. The Mommy and Daddy looked around and saw that they were the only ones at the playground. They took their sweet little girl behind a bush and sat her on a log. Ah, sweet relief! The little girl was happy again and ran back to the playground for more fun. The Mommy and Daddy were content that they had come up with a creative solution to avert an accident and that there had at least been privacy.
Flash forward one year.
The Mommy is me and you are my Sweet Little Girl. And now we have The Boy as well. He has just learned the excitement of Running Off. He thinks this is lots of fun and Mommy seems to enjoy it too – see how she runs and shouts? How fun!
We are having a pleasant time at the playground; just me and you two. In a rare moment of containment, you are both happily swaying on the swings.
Sweet Little Girl suddenly announces, “I have to pee. Momma, I have to pee right now!”
I immediately take both kiddos out of the swings in preparation to run home as soon as humanly possible; we have a five minute window or less. Other children immediately occupy the vacant swings; there is a crowd on the playground today.
I take Sweet Little Girl’s hand, “Can you make it home, sweetie?”
“No! I have to go right now!”
I sigh. Of course she does. “Ok, just hold on.” I turn to secure The Boy. Who is Running Off. “Stay here, sweetie!” I chase the stinker.
“Gotcha!” The Boy is secured. Sweet Little Girl is…where is she?
There she is! Across the playground. Sitting on a log. In the middle of the park. Peeing.
In slow motion I run across the playground, “Noooooooo!” It is too late. Sweet Little Girl is already in the middle of The Longest Pee Ever.
I stand there. The Boy clutched in hand. Her bottom exposed to half the playground; marking the eastern side of the playground as hers. I am mortified, but helpless. This is happening.
I look out across the playground. The children don’t care. Some of the younger ones seem to be taking mental notes (“Pee on the playground. Check.”). The parents are averting their eyes. Eyebrows raised, mouths open, but eyes averted. I am doing my best to look embarrassed. This is not hard to accomplish.
Sweet Little Girl finishes and pulls up her pants. “Look, Momma! I peed! Just like you showed me! I peed on the playground! Like you showed me how!”
“Uh huh. Yes. We’re all very proud. Let’s not do that ever, ever, ever again, ok?”
“Ever, ever, ever, ok? Now, I think we should run to the car. Let’s run, ok?”
I don’t have to ask The Boy twice. He is already Running Off. Sweet Little Girl drags her feet and shuffles, forlorn, back to the car as dozens of eyes follow us; The Girl Who Peed On The Playground and The Mother Who Taught Her To.