Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Target Love





I went to TARGET!


But in true Tyrant fashion, all did not go as planned.


The night before our grand trip was scheduled, we discovered that our attic apartment is home to not one, not two, but dozens and dozens of bats. They had just moved in and were really REALLY happy to be there. Happy enough to poop all over and have lots of babies who scratched and squeaked and stunk of guano all day.  Oh joy. (We sealed up the roof and Tyrant Daddy stayed up until 5:30 in the morning catching the stragglers that clawed their way out of the ceiling while I sheltered our Tiny Tyrants. *shudder*)


So after a uber-strong pot of coffee, a long morning nap and a late start, we were on our way.  The girls were good on the 45 minute drive to the nearest thriving metropolis, and we spotted a McDonald's (don't judge) and decided to stop. We were letting Thing 1 burn off some steam in the play area when I saw it - The Poop Face. At this point she was in the last clean diaper we had with us.


"Hold it! Don't poop!" I cried, scooping her up and swooping through bemused McDonald's customers to the restroom.  Once we were in a stall I quickly peeled off her shorts and diaper. Only to realize, too late, that the diaper was full of an amazing amount of liquid feces, which were now slowly leaking over the sides and onto the bathroom floor. 


Thing 1 blinked at me and said solemnly, "I'm all done Momma. I all done pooping."


I sighed. "Yes. I can see that."


I cleaned her, placed her in a corner of the stall, and proceeded to wipe poo off the floor with industrial grade cardboardesque toilet paper while trying not to vomit up my recently consumed fast food lunch. Mostly because I would just have to clean the floor again.
Since we were out of diapers, Thing 1 got to go starkers under her shorts on the quick trip across town to Target while I chanted, "Don't Pee! You aren't wearing a diaper! DO NOT PEE!" at every stoplight.


The rest of the trip went like this:
Into store.
Buy diapers.
Put diaper on butt.
Return to shopping. 
Tyrant Daddy, "Did you bring the list?"
Me, "What list?"
Tyrant Daddy, "Didn't we need anything besides diapers?"
Me, "Ummmmm....probably?
Wander around in an exhausted daze picking up and putting down random objects.
Realize that Thing 1 is falling asleep in the cart.
Head back to the checkout. 
Can't find our credit card. 
Tyrant Daddy goes looking for the card. 
I immediately find the card after he leaves. 
Tyrant Daddy takes the bags to the car while I change girls.
I realize that I am holding an infant and have no where to put her while I check my toddler's diaper. 
I finally precariously balance both of them on the Koala changing station.  Totally safe. No one dies.
Tyrant Daddy considerately pulls up to the front of the store. 
I don't realize this and spend 15 minutes wandering around the parking lot with two babies wondering if I am losing my mind.
We find the car.
I feed Thing 2.
Thing 1 nodded off.
Thing 2 starts screaming.
I spend the next 45 minutes wedged between the carseats keeping Thing 2 quiet so her sister can sleep.


I learned a few things from this day:


Don't eat at McDonalds. 
Always bring extra diapers. 
Never drop a diaper until you have checked the contents.


I still love Target.

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