A Story About Ari

I took the boys to Wal-Mart tonight. They were absolute angels, perfectly behaved. We bought a cartload of groceries. As we were paying at the register, Owen started jumping around and doing the pee-pee dance. He told me he needed to use the bathroom, and I told him as soon as we finished paying, we'd go to the restroom. Then he started saying, "I'm worried, Mom. I'm getting very worried." So immediately after finishing up at the register, we headed straight for the bathrooms. I know the Wal-Mart bathroom door says no merchandise in the bathrooms, whatever, but there is no way I can hold Owen on the toilet and also hold Ari. So the entire cart, full of bags of groceries, with Ari riding shotgun, came in to the bathroom with us. I pushed it into the bathroom, and directed Owen to the back stall, which is the largest one (handicapped access). The other stall was occupied. On my way back to the stall, I noticed two new urinals in there. I thought to myself, 'That's odd - I wonder if enough little boys use the bathrooms with their moms that they put in urinals?' Then I looked again at the shoes under the occupied stall. Then I called Owen back to me. You see where this is going. "Let's check the door of the bathroom," I told him, and pushed it open. Sure enough, MENS, big as day. I panicked, and since the door was already open, we ran out. And as the door banged closed behind us, I realized - Ari is still in there! With our cart of groceries. I could feel my head whipping around, looking for a man, any man, who looked relatively safe, who might be willing to go back in there and push my cart out, with my son in it. I momentarily thought about running back in myself, but there was a man in there already, and what if he came out and there I was? And what if he decided to use the urinal? I already avoided that humilation once. Not a man in sight in Wal-Mart, all of a sudden. Finally, after a few minutes, I spotted a teenaged checker, and I motioned him over. "I need help!" I told him, and explained my predicament. He went right in there and rescued my stranded son (who was babbling cheerfully the entire time), and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. He was like the OnStar of Wal-Mart, and many thanks to him, as I was avoided further humiliation, and was not confronted with any urinal situations.

So who switched the Wal-Mart bathrooms? Aren't the womens' always on the left? Note to self: Check doors next time.

We went out earlier today and bought Keith his first real, live suit. It's being tailored right now. He bought a cool shirt and tie to go with it. He looks so . . . professional, grown-up. Different. He looks super hot. Thank goodness he looks so awesome, because when it all rang up, I had Roger Rabbit eyes, which practically shot out of my face. Keith is the most frugal person I know, so I couldn't believe he agreed to buy a new suit. But it was based on the stipulation that he be buried in it (he's cheap and morbid!).

If you've sent me a request for the adoption journal website, I've received it. I'm keeping everyone's requests for a few more days, and then I'll send out a group mailing with the address. Hopefully we'll hear something this week about our travel dates. I should have known that when they told us we'd hear something "right after Labor Day," they really meant, "maybe by the end of the month?" Nerds.