Today I vowed to complete my Christmas shopping.
We leave for Washington on Sunday and I really don’t want to have to go out shopping there next week. So, with three kids in tow I hit the mall.
We planned on meeting Josh for lunch, so instead of shopping at the more familiar mall by our house I was at a mall by Josh’s work. After checking the directory I discovered that the store I wanted was upstairs.
I started searching for an elevator because I knew better than to use the escalator directly in front of me while Ezra was in the stroller. A mall employee told me there was one in JC Penny’s so off we went to Penny’s to find it. As we were in the department store I thought, “We should take a potty break.” I ignored that inner warning, much to my later disappointment.
Up to the second floor we rode and headed to the first store. While in the process of checking out, Cora starts hopping…all moms recognize that hop. It’s the “I have to pee” hop.
“Mommy, I have to go potty.”
“Ok, Cora. Just a second. Let me buy this.”
“Mommy, I really have to go potty.”
“Ok, Cora. We’ll go right after I sign this.”
(10 second pause)
“Eli. Let’s go. Cora has to go potty. Cora, come on. Why are you standing there?”
Then I see the panic in her eyes and the puddle at her feet. I feel awful that she’s embarrassed and that my child piddled in a public area. I ask an employee if they have something for me to clean it up and she says they’ll take care of it. Then I try to figure out where I can quickly get Cora some new pants.
I see a mall directory right outside the store and head over there. I’m in luck! There’s a Gymboree directly underneath me. But, I don’t want to drag Cora back to JC Penny’s to use the elevator so I make an emergency decision to use the escalator right next to us.
Feeling like I’m committing a crime, I push Ezra in the stroller on to the escalator and hold Cora’s hand (because she’s nervous of moving stairs). We arrive safely at the bottom and make a beeline for Gymboree.
We head to the clearance section and I start pulling out pants. Little Miss Picky Pee Pee Pants doesn’t like any of them.
Finally after a couple of minutes we find a pair that meets her approval. Of course they don’t match the shirt she is wearing so we find a shirt and then get her some new underwear and socks. Her shoes are soaked so she spends the next hour walking around the mall in her stocking feet.
But she’s happy because she has a ballerina shirt.
At least I got my Christmas shopping finished…
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