Adventures of the Cupboard Dweller.

Alternatively titled, the most disgusting thing I've experience with my kids, to date. **FAIR WARNING: If you don't like gross port-o-potty stories, or bodily functions make you gag...PLEASE don't read this**. For the rest of you....a little glimpse into our lives :)
About a week and a half ago, the littles and I headed out for a little park-time. It was beautiful out; almost-warm and sunny, and we were all antsy. So we headed for one of Pax's favorite parks around here- the "dinosaur park", as it's known in our family. After a little (very little!) playground time, the boy began to run up and down the large hills and trails surrounding the playground...I followed with Littlest, "chasing" him and having a wonderful time. Pretty soon, though, my slightly-too-strong cup of morning coffee began to kick in...and I realised I had to find a bathroom. Preferably as soon as possible. Around here, the parks close their bathrooms in the winter...don't really know why, but they do. Since we were up high, I looked around--and spotted it. That turquoise-blue rectangle of dubious cleanliness called a port-o-potty, shining in the morning sun. I began to hurry my kiddos towards it, knowing there was no other option. We crossed grass, weeds, and parking lots as quickly as possible; I opened the door, helped Pax inside-and gasped. Disaster. The MOST DISGUSTING port-o-potty I have ever, ever, EVER seen. Seriously, it looked (sorry folks-gonna get graphic here for a second!) like someone had had explosive diarrhea--everywhere. I stood there for a minute-but there was no other option. I COULDN'T make it anywhere else. I sort of squatted over the hole; and that's when Pax actually LOOKED at his surroundings. And immediately began to dry-heave. "DON'T LOOK!! DON'T LOOK!!" I yelled, visions of my small son adding puke to the disgustingness filling my head. He hurriedly turned away...and then peeked back over his shoulder at the horror again. And began to dry-heave. Again. BOYS! I kept yelling, "DON'T LOOK!! DON'T LOOK!!" and he kept turning away, peeking back over his shoulder, and dry heaving. Then the baby toddled over to touch the potty...I frantically told her "NO! DON'T TOUCH!!" at which point she looked at me, her face crumpling as the tears started; and she LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR OF THE PORT-O-POTTY. Gaaaaaahhh!! I quickly reached for the toilet paper just wanting to get my babies the heck out of there...and there was no toilet paper. And, of course, I'd left the diaper bag in the car. I'm pretty sure I would have started crying at this point...except for the part where I had one child about to puke and one child about to make ME puke as she lay on the floor. Necessity being the mother of invention, I quickly tore up the cardboard toilet paper rolls and got us out of there as fast as I possibly could! We burst out of the door--ahhh, fresh air!!--and started heading back toward the park. All I could think about was the packages of sanitizing wipes in the car that I was prepared to wipe my children down with from head.to.toe...and then I heard a sweet little voice. "Mama, that was a YUCKY potty!" "Yes, it was, baby," I agreed.
"Mama...I need to go potty,"
I crouched down. "Are you SURE?" a nod. "She She (it means pee in Portuguese...it's what we call it at our house) or poop?" I asked, dreading the answer. "she she! she she," he hurriedly assured me.
Thank goodness, I thought, because even if it wasn't we'd be diggin' you a hole to go in before we went back in there!
The next weekend, we went back to that park with Adam.
"Daddy," Pax said as we turned in, "there's a yucky potty here. It's a YUCKY potty!" Adam laughed and agreed with him, having heard of the trauma already. Pax was quiet for a minute. Then, "Daddy," he added, "I don't need to go potty here,"
HA! I'll bet ya don't, little guy!
And, yes, this story was truly so horrible that I felt compelled to share it ;-)