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The Car Cart

If you don't like to read about poop or pee you should probably just go to another blog now. I don't know when I will run out of material about this subject, maybe at minimum when Asher is 6 yrs old and at maximum when Asher is college-age.

Today we made a trip to Fred Meyer (a grocery, garden, clothing, electronics and general all purpose store) to look at Easter Decorations. It can rain a lot in Portland (the rumors are true) so we sometimes have to get creative about afternoon entertainment. Asher loves to look at the various holiday aisles, especially the holiday-themed singing animals. We have two such animals at home. 1. A bunny (from last year at Easter) who moves its ears and tail while "Here Comes Peter Cottontail" blares out of its belly, and 2. a hamster dressed as a vampire (from Halloween) who sings a version of K.C. and the Sunshine Band's "Get Down Tonight." You know.......because Vampires like to go out at night. I had to think about that one too.

When we arrived at Fred Meyer Asher announced,
"I want to sit in the car-cart! The blue car-cart." I usually walk quickly past these carts and settle for an old fashioned cart with the part where the child sits and faces you. But Asher was determined. When we found a blue car-cart Asher screamed "NOOOOO, Not the one with the letters on the back." Ugh. I looked at the clock. 5pm. Usually we are home at this time, and usually at 5:05pm Asher has a meltdown. This has been the case since about three months ago when Asher gave up his afternoon nap. Since then, the late afternoon can be quite challenging.

Remain calm, I remind myself (I read this advice in a parenting book recently). And we went to look for a blue car-car that did not have the letters (the fake license plate) on the back. Really it is fitting that these carts have fake license plates on them because the cart Asher chose was about the size of the 2-door Honda Civic I used to drive. However, I never tried to drive that car through aisles of a grocery store.

I pushed this double wide, heavy cart through the store-careful not to hit magazine racks, piles of oranges, or stray children. We made our way over to the singing animal toys and found a duck dressed as a bunny. When we pushed the button on its hand, it sang some country song I did not recognize. As we listened to the song for the fifteenth time Asher announced "I have to pee." Asher is still not good at 'holding it' and when he announces he has to pee he usually has leaked into his pants a little bit. "Hold on," I reassured him, and ran (really) to the other side of the store while pushing this gigantic car-cart.

When we got to the restroom I lifted Asher out of the cart, carried him to the bathroom, found an empty stall and helped him get his pants down. "Pick me up, " Asher demanded since the toilet was a little taller than he could reach. And when I lifted him, he began to pee. On me. On the floor. On his shoe. And finally in the toilet. But as I rushed forward to get him (and his penis) closer to the toilet my hip crashed into the metal toilet paper dispenser. "Grrruuuuaahhhh" I screamed and then "Crap!" This is actually a big improvement over what I might have said four years ago, before having a child.

"What mamma? Asher asked me while still peeing "What is the crap? I will kiss it!" And I showed him the part of my hip-which was sure to develop a big bruise. And he kissed it. And it made it all worth the effort.

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