For some reason, my daughter Allie thinks that an essential part of going to eat at a restaurant is using their restroom. It’s a MUST to her. If we go out to eat, she absolutely has to use their restroom. Call it toddler bladder or call it a form of torture. It’s up to you.
Anyway, when we ventured into the first stall of the two-stall restroom it was quite obvious the second stall was occupied. However, the occupant decided to make it more obvious with obscenely loud flatulence. Now, I realize that it’s normally to hear such noises in a restroom. I also realize that it is the silent bathroom code that under no condition do you comment on the loud noises coming from the stall next door.
Do you know who doesn’t realize this?
Allie.
As the noises escalated, I began to worry about the person in the stall next door. Were they okay? Could they possibly be okay when their body was producing noises of that nature?
Allie decided to cut to the chase, and as she yelled, “Mom? Do you hear that? I bet they are pooping! Those are loud poots! Loud ones!”
I shushed her and whispered to her that it wasn’t nice to call people out in public restrooms. But you can’t really reason with toddlers in situations like that. And well, who could blame her.
So she yelled again, “But it’s so loud mom! Those are the loudest poots ever! Hey! Hey person! Are you pooping? I poop! I can poop too!”
Of course, there was still no answer from the stall next door, and I decided that it was in my best interest to exit the restroom as quickly as possible. So we washed our hands. And as we were approaching the door Allie deemed it necessary to get in one more jab to the stall occupant, and yelled again, “I still hear you pooping! I know you are pooping! I know you are pooping, but my mom said I am not apposed to say that!”
As I opened the door, I heard the stall occupant mumble, “Sorry.”
My point is that while it is necessary to take children to the bathroom with you at times, there are no promises about the experience inside.
