This is just to funny not to pass on… and if you have seen it, I’m sure it will make you laugh again…
  
 
  A 3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall.      
By Shannon Popkin 
       
My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. He loves to communicate and does it     
quite well. He talks to people constantly, whether we are in the library,     
the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often comment on how     
clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to ask     
him to turn up the volume. It's always fully cranked. There have been     
several embarrassing times that I've wished the meaning of his words would     
have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this     
more than last week at Costco.     
Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade with me     
into the restroom. If you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom that     
evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the     
last stall:     
''Mommy, are you gonna go potty? Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper     
on the     
potty, Mommy? Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now?  Mommy, what     
are you doing? Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?''     
At this point I started mentally counting how many women had been in the     
bathroom when I walked in. Several stalls were full .. 4? 5? Maybe we could     
wait until they all left before I had to make my debut out of this stall and     
reveal my identity.     
Cade continued: ''Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren't you? Oh,     
dats a good     
girl, Mommy! Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty?     
Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh...Mommy! I'm trying to see In dere. Oh!     
I see dem. Dat is a very good girl, Mommy. You are gonna get some     
candy!''     
I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me.     
Where is a screaming new born when you need her?  Good grief. This was     
really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time before     
exiting. Trying to divert him, I said, ''Why don't you look in     
Mommy's purse     
and see if you can find some candy. We'll both have some!''     
''No, I'm trying to see doze more stinkies...Oh! Mommy!''     
He started to gag at this point.     
''Uh - oh, Mommy. I fink I'm gonna frow up. Mommy, doze stinkies     
are making     
me frow up!! Dat is so gross!!''     
As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall.. I quickly     
flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject.  I began to reason with     
myself: OK. There are four other toilets.  If I count four flushes, I can be     
reasonably assured that those who overheard this embarrassing monologue will     
be long gone.     
''Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want you to be done going     
stinkies! Get up! Get up!''     
He grunted as he tried to pull me off. Now I could hear full-blown laughter.     
I bent down to count the feet outside my door.  ''Oh, are you wooking     
under     
dere, Mommy? You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at? Mommy? You     
wooking at the wady's feet?''     
More laughter. I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess the     
situation.     
''Mommy, it's time to wash our hands, now. We have to go out now,     
Mommy.''     
He started pounding on the door.  ''Mommy, don't you want to wash     
your     
hands? I want to go out!!''     
I saw that my wait 'em out' plan was unraveling. I sheepishly opened     
the     
door, and found standing outside my stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded     
around the stall, all smiling and starting to applaud.     
My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I thought, where's the     
fine print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed away every bit     
of my     
dignity and privacy? But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while     
he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands, I thought, I'd sign     
it all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow.
     
(Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three. She lives with her family in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she no longer uses public restrooms)      
  Quote of the Day:      
Encouragement is like a premium gasoline - it helps to take knocks out of living.