Super Heroes & Bathroom Trauma...

This past weekend, DW and our friends, Stephen and Amber, ran in the Mercedes Marathon.  They lost their minds, evidently, because they did the Super Hero 5K on Saturday and then ran the half on Sunday.  Me, myself, and I sat at home comfortably in my pajamas both days...which I highly recommend, by the way.  ;-)

 



 

This picture ended up on AL.com, a local online website, and both of the guys were "caught" in it, looking all serious and athletic.  If I'd been in this picture, it would have been much more likely I would have gotten caught with my mouth hanging open or some other such sexy-like face.   

On Saturday, once the Super Hero 5K was over, DW came home and acted like a Super Hero for someone else.  He and LC snuck in some cuddle time on the couch together, watching TV.  She kept laying her head down on his chest and then looking up at his face and pointing back at the TV to make sure he was watching...

And speaking of cuddling...my mom (Gee) got her a couple books that come with stuffed animals and this "Dutt" (aka Duck) has become permanently attached to LC.  She carries him around saying, Dutt. Dutt. and then when I ask "What does the Duck say?" She replies, Waaaak Waaaak.  Or rather, Quack Quack in baby language. 

Where LC goes, Dutt goes...

On Sunday, DW got up early to go run the 1/2 marathon and LC and I slept in late before going to meet him after the race.  We thought it would be fun, once the race was over, to walk around, eat free food, and people-watch.  And ohhhh, the people watching. 

 

In other over sharing news, it also shall be go down in history as Bathroom Trauma Day for me. 

 

I made the mistake of leaving the house and heading to the race without going to the bathroom first.  I should know better.  I don't know if this happens to other people but the times I most desperately end up needing to go to the bathroom when I think I can't. 

Like, the second I go into the woods...I end up needing to go to the bathroom.  Large facilities with endless people and few bathrooms bring on the "need" like a freight train.  So yup, the moment I get to the Auditorium where the runners were gathered to meet DW, I end up needing to go.  And, of course, as it always happens, the women's line was - no joke - 20 to 30 ladies deep. 

 

Luckily for me, Amber had insider knowledge and told me about one upstairs that no one really knew about near where the runners were getting post race massages.  Sure enough, I jog up the stadium steps and, when I reach the top, a glorious light from heaven shines down on a unisex bathroom with NOT A SINGLE PERSON IN LINE.  I silently whispered a small prayer of relief and quickly pushed open the door...

 

...only to make full eye contact with a guy, about my age, in the middle of doing his business.  I gasped and he calmly replied, Sorry, I thought I locked that. 

 

Well, clearly you did not.  I quickly jumped back, slammed the door shut, and proceeded to mentally wash my eyes out with imaginary soap.  I waited with only the slightest of pee-pee dancing, hopefully not even noticeable to the human eye, and only moments later, out steps Mr. Oh-I-Thought-I-Locked-That. I avoided looking him in the eyes as he apologized again and I said, "No worries, sorry for barging in..."

 

One would think that one bathroom moment of awkwardness in a day would suffice, right?  But oh no...not for me! 

 

Later, after we hung out at the race and got our fill of people watching, DW mentioned he was hungry so we stopped for Mexican food on our way home.  Apparently, I'm realizing as I'm writing this post, I am publicly sharing the fact that I have a bladder the size of a pea.  Once we got to the restaurant, I got LC situated and headed back to the restroom.  Luckily, no line...and I pushed open the door...

 

...only to make full eye contact with a little girl about 5 years old, her dress pulled up under her chin and her tights around her ankles.  She looked surprised, I looked surprised, and I would have just apologized and stepped back but my eyes glanced over toward the toilet. It was then that I realized that said little girl must have recently traded spots with her mom was was now in full potty squat hover mode, her head hanging like a rag doll between her knees. 

 

I jump back as I realize what's happening and hope the Mom won't know what just happened.  No such luck I realize as I hear her bark to the little girl, "LOCK THAT DOOR".  I decide, to avoid more awkward eye contact, I would just go back to my seat and try again later.  You know, once they left and had no idea who barged in on them. 

 

I kept an eye out for Mom and Daughter to leave the restroom, counted to 25, and then headed back to try again. 

 

Dang.  Locked.  Someone beat me. 

 

So I sit down in the chair outside of the women's bathroom and wait.  Moments later, the door opens and out walks...A MAN.  Out of the woman's restroom.  Sure, it was a solo restroom but apparently he knew that it was the women's because he nodded curtly, trying to salvage his pride, I'm sure, and just barked, "Sorry."

 

I nodded at him but then shook my head, wondering if I would ever be able to open a public restroom door without fear again.  When I went back to the table, DW looked at me funny because I guess I had a funny look on my face.  What? he says...and I reply..."Nothing really.  I just need to dub today Bathroom Trauma Day" and proceeded to explain to him my three strange incidences of the day.  Only you... he laughs and says. 

 

Please tell me someone else has things like this happen to them...all.the.time.  Bueller? Bueller?