She struck again

For those of my friends who really want to know yes it happened again. I mean, of course, my little imp, Wendy. She happens so frequently. Saturday I took the Young Women to Mammoth Cave and Ken went to the Stake Father/Son Camp out so I had to take all the girls with me. We didn't go on any fancy tours or anything. Just something that was fun, interesting and easy (the Historic tour).

Not 10 minutes into the cave Wendy says, "Mom I have to pee." Now this time I was holding Wendy because she was scared of the dark cave. I said, "Wendy don't you pee on me." She assured me that she was going to try and hold it. That for some reason didn't make me feel better.

Of course I was frantically trying to think what I was going to do. I finally decided to tell the ranger and see what she thought. She gave me 2 options: 1. There were bathrooms on the tour and we could wait. It would take us 15 minutes to get there. 2. She could give me a bag and I could take her potty right away behind a rock.

I opted for the latter. I did not want to have a repeat of Alice in Wonderland. I got the bag took Wendy behind a rock. This bag was all done up with a funnel on it so you could get you pee in. Then it had another bad attached to let you dispose of the pee properly without spillage. I had to balance Wendy between my legs and position the bag under her bottom.

Everything went well. Wendy did pee on my hand a little and I did miss the bag a little. The good thing about my hands getting peed on is that it wasn't my clothes and that I could wash my hands in the bathroom. The best thing is that now Mammoth Cave has a piece of our little group from Lexington. LOL

Now everyone will know what to do if your in a cave and your child or you, if the case may be, need to relieve that urge. Hope this helps someone.

Question of the Day

What do you do if your mom won't let you walk on the new carpet with shoes on and you have to walk on the carpet to brush your teeth? Oh and you have already put your shoes on? You brush your teeth with your finger in the downstairs bathroom and hope that you did a good job and your breath won't smell. This is a decision that my kids now have to make now. I have turned into a monster anytime anyone (including Ken) tries to go upstairs with their shoes on (or food). My carpet is just so beautiful. I love it.