Pumpkin Patch Potties

Well, yes, I thought I'd treat you all...all of my what, zero, avid readers out there to my thoughts from today. Yes, it has been months since I posted anything, but Hey...I've not been thinking very creatively lately. I'll just take what I can get!

Today I took my 3 kiddos to the Pumpkin Patch (www.andersonfarms.com). Yes. All by myself! (Jeremy is out hunting the Great Wild Antlered Elk this week, so I'm single-momin' it) We really had a great time: We looked at the goats(I really want a Pygmy Goat!!); we looked at the chickens (I am so glad we don't have any anymore!!); we rode out to the pumpkin patch to pick out a nice sized, overly priced, warty pumpkin to take home. And, we only had a couple of disciplinary issues, so all in all, it was good.

I did experience a couple of moments of anxiety centered around the provided "facilities". Let me start by saying that I hate Port-o-lets. Port-a-john, sani-privy, port-a-san, porta-potty, tidy john, John To Go, toi-toi, (and my personal favorite) sh*t-shack. I hate 'em all. They're disgusting, putrid, nasty, and stinky, and often one leaves the potty wagon with an education in gutter-minded limericks. However, this post is not a rant about plastic outhouses.

We took two trips to the lovely orange potties during our visit to the farm. I almost didn't take the children to the farm for this very reason. I have a 5 year old, a 3 year old, and a 2 year old. We don't all fit in these cabinets together. When we're out and about, we always go for the handicapped stall where I can keep an eye on them all. (It's our "special" place to practice the ABC's & 123's! I digress....) Well, they don't have the ADA approved handicapped johns at the farm.

So, what's a mom to do? Hold it for hours and hours? I don't think so. In my need, I spoke very seriously, and very quickly, to my eldest son, to watch over his sisters while I was otherwise "indisposed". I told him to scream and yell and go crazy if someone tried to touch them or whatever. I don't remember exactly what I said...I wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment...those bright orange cubicles were looking mighty inviting at the moment. Once in the potty, I began thinking over my instructions to my son. I began imagining what I would actually do if he did, in fact, start screaming his head off. Really! Would I finish my "business", tidy myself up and step out the box gracefully to save my children? I'm so glad that my son didn't decide that the moment was ripe to play a joke on mom. I would have burst out, pants down, with all of my glory hanging out. Wouldn't you?? I flatter myself that the mere sight of this mama bear busting out of the den to save her precious cubs while in a state of undress would stop the would-be evil doer in their tracks. Perhaps it would just shock the surrounding onlookers into a state of disbelief, that while I tripped over my pants, the villain would take off.....

Well anyway, I'm just glad that scenario didn't play out in larger-than-life reality...for more than saving my delicate ego the humiliation. I'm just glad that my children are safe and were only an arm's length away from me while I was cloistered. But, I have to say, I will be writing a letter to Anderson Farms requesting one or two of the family-sized sh*t-shacks (sorry! couldn't resist) for those of us Moms that are brave enough to bring our young brood to their establishment by themselves!

P.S....did you know I LOVE potty humor??