09.22.15

Theodore is a character. That's a pretty good way to describe it. He takes us on adventures we've never been on before, and teaches us lessons Oliver never had to teach. This photo is from a visit to Grandma's last month, but I thought it captured his personality pretty well. He's been wearing that red knight costume every day for a couple of weeks now, by the way. Because it makes him feel magical. Who am I to deprive him of that? If all it took were a knight's tunic to make me feel like I could conquer my day, I'd be wearing one too.

Yesterday evening was a new experience. We went out for our bi-weekly big grocery shop in the city, and took the boys along. It was a really big shop, with a very long list, and we had quite a few stores to visit. Our second-last stop was Costco, and since Matt and I still hadn't eaten, we grabbed a bite at the Costco cafe. To keep the kids quiet we got them each an ice cream sundae, and Theodore only had a bite or two of his. I am quite intolerant to dairy (my kiddos are too, but we let them have ice cream once in a while.) We don't have dairy in the house for this reason, which means Matt never has dairy either. But deciding to treat ourselves and face the consequences, we finished Theodore's ice cream for him and continued on our shopping adventure.

It hit us on the drive from Costco to Superstore. The short five minute jump. Agonizing abdominal pain and digestive issues began to overtake me. I moaned in the passenger seat beside Matt as he said "You know, I'm not feeling too great either." We made it into Superstore and began perusing the produce for maybe a minute or two before Matt said, "I'm sorry babe, but I'm gonna' need a minute."
 He promptly scurried off to the bathroom while I continued to shop. Moments later he returned with a terrified expression on his face, and told me "The bathroom is temporarily closed for cleaning. This is about to get interesting." He made it maybe another five minutes before he had to return to check, and essentially had to kick the cleaning guy out of the bathroom because the situation was dire.

I shopped on my own for about ten minutes when it came over me; the icy chills of impending doom. My stomach gargled and twisted and my life flashed before my eyes. I started playing the scene from Bridesmaids in my head as I glanced around to see if Matt was on his way back yet. He wasn't. In a frenzy I pushed the already very full cart around the corner and raced toward the bathroom. All of the lanes were closed or full, I couldn't get through. I grabbed my cell phone and started frantically dialling Matt. First call went straight to voicemail. He thinks I'm trying to rush him again, the bastard. Second call rings a couple of times, then voicemail. I have to keep trying or my life is going to end right here, in this Superstore. I call one more time and he answers and all I can get out is "Youhavetocomeoutrightnow." Moments later he's outside the bathroom doors and I scurried my way to sweet disgusting relief.

A couple more bathroom trips later and our shopping was finally completed, tag-team style. In the checkout we smelled a very suspicious odour coming from Theodore and realized that a very similar scenario had just taken place in or around his diaper. We hurried through our purchase and got out to our vehicle since we didn't have the diaper bag with us. Thinking it's just going to be a run-of-the-mill change, I laid him down on Matt's car seat and started getting supplies ready. I could barely see as it was dark outside and the parking lot wasn't particularly well lit. I got his pants just barely down before I realized my entire arm up to my elbow was covered in it. Toxic toddler waste. Not only that, but his pants, Matt's car seat, his shirt, and possibly his hair was also contaminated.

"Baaaabe," I said, swallowing a gag, "I'm going to need some help with this one."

He promptly stopped loading groceries in the back and rounded the corner to witness the gruesome scene. And then, right there in the parking lot, we stripped Theodore completely naked and gave him a generous baby wipe bath. While I scrambled for a clean outfit in the diaper bag, Matt stood next to a nude-except-for-a-diaper Theodore, barefoot on the concrete, grinning like a clown up at us. My golden boy found the situation completely and utterly hilarious, an epic adventure for what started out as such an ordinary evening. Oliver was laughing his face off in his car seat the entire time, and once we got Theodore dressed, the car packed up, and into our seats in the front, Matt and I couldn't help but laugh hysterically too. What a ridiculous turn of events.

And that, children, is the last time anyone in our family ever ate ice cream.