A Crap Story

We went to eat yesterday.  My husband had left for two months on a work trip, and then returned from said work trip within 12 hours.  Because of the lack of professional communication, followed by the chaos and confusion with our two year old at home, our gift of one more free day together was stressful at best.  So we went out to eat.

After a quick run through of our restaurant rules we went in and chose a seat upstairs by a window.  Within 5 minutes Ruby, clearly our two year old in this story, started pitching a fit, rules-be-damned, about needing a different table.  Thankfully someone in the city had an emergency and two huge fire engines screamed by, barreling down the tiny city streets with lights, sound and action.   And just like that the table upstairs by the window was interesting and exciting.

Dinner was delicious.  As my husband and I finished eating we let Ruby explore the upstairs dining area, which had a creaky wood floor and secret room in back providing plenty of nearby, safe adventure.  We watched her run, hide, peer through the heavy old-fashioned banisters at the diners below, and go from empty table to empty table chatting some sort of inaudible something in a game only she understood.  We decided to take a little walk and get an ice cream.  Ruby, of course, heard the magic words and came running over to her dad.

“Can you check her diaper?  I think she might stink”.  I watched as my husband lifted her up and sniffed her butt, something you vow to never do before having kids but that just happens anyway.

“No.  I don’t smell anything”.

Either he just didn’t want to deal or this is the reason he can stand himself on the toilet for 45 minutes at a time, so I took a look to be sure.  “How can you not smell that”, I exclaimed.  “By the way, it’s sooo your turn”.  And with that, we tried to discretely change a diaper in a restaurant without a changing table.

Now, those of you with children know that nothing happens discretely.  The innocent and honest observations of small children make doing anything on the sly impossible.  Yet, if you’re like my husband and me you still try, on the off chance that you pull off changing a stinky diaper in a restaurant just long enough to get out the door before someone discovers the hideous odor coming from the bin you’ve thrown it in.

There was no one else upstairs so my husband chose a corner out of view from the diners downstairs.  As he went to work I heard my husband’s “Sshhhhh!!  Sshhh!!” and then, quite loudly; “Ich habe so viel gekackt”!!!!  (Translation: “I sure crapped a lot!!”)  The conversation downstairs noticeably died down and I saw a few people glance upstairs and then away.  We were caught, and all I could do was laugh.

Her little voice got even louder as she said, “Boooooo!  Das schtinks!”  (Ew!  That stinks!)  And then louder still, “HEY, MAMA!!  CAN YOU SMELL THAT?!”

All eyes were on us as we left, smiling, curious, and entertained, and the three of us laughed all the way to the ice cream shop.

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