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Proper Bathroom Protocol

Yesterday it was my turn to teach in our children’s churches youngest age group; the 2-5 year olds. Now, I always enjoying spending time with the kids because they just see the world in the most delightful way and being with them always reminds me how much a humble biscuit can do to bring peace and reconciliation among be-huffed little humans.

I was tasked with telling the Bible story to a group of seventeen of them. Not to brag, but I think I did a decent job because I managed to avoid instigating a mass nose-picking-from-boredom situation during my story. Trust me; you can be thoroughly impressed – this really is easier said than done. Afterwards, I was asked to take a 3 year old girl to the bathroom, to answer nature’s call.

Personal Disclaimer: Before I go any further, I would like to state for the record that I am currently not a mommy and I haven’t read ‘The Idiot’s Guide To Taking Small Children To The Bathroom’ and, hence there are some gaping holes in my understanding of proper bathroom protocol for a “major assisting a minor” in this context. Plus I have severely limited experience in this area – specifically; none. So keep that in mind as we continue…

10:03am: We walk to the bathroom together, and since we didn’t know each other, the conversation was, let’s say, “sparse.” My attempts at breaking the social ice went something like this:
Me: “So, what is your name?”
Her: … (nothing)
Me: … (nothing)

10:05am: We reached the Ladies Room after what felt like a silent eternity. I have never felt so relieved to see a public bathroom (which is saying A LOT).

10.06am: We enter the cubicle and I look down at her and I state the obvious; “There it is. You know what to do.” She just stands there and looks up at me with a comical facial expression such as to suggest, “Have you never done this before, lady?” We hold eye contact for ages and I get a sneaking suspicion that there may be something I’m supposed to be doing at this point…

10.07am: I figure it out and lift her onto the toilet. Within nanoseconds I realize that she is so small she is in imminent danger of falling right in if I don’t hold onto her. So I kneel down and support her. We are now eye-level; two semi-complete strangers wishing we could be anywhere else but here. Minutes pass as we balance precariously there, just staring at each other in silence. [Insert the sound of crickets chirping here…]

10.09am: Still nothing has happened, you know; bathroom-wise. She is taking an awfully long time to accomplish essentially nothing. At this point, conversation turned to truly important topics such as, “When last did you actually drink something?” She replies with her informative standard response, “….. (nothing)” but she has a facial expression that hinted she was seriously considering falling right into the toilet voluntarily, just to ease the awkwardness of this moment.

10.10am: By now she is displaying signs of serious stage-fright and it looks like we could still be here for the evening service. But what could I do; I had to stay there to prevent her from plunging right in! I express sincerely fake interest in the toilet roll holder – you know; to give her some privacy. And as I examined the toilet roll, it slowly begins to dawn on me that when it comes to kids, questions such as, “Can I got to the bathroom?” rarely lead you down a comfortable path.

10.12am: She manages to do what she came here for and I was so thrilled it was over, I wanted to buy her a pony as a small expression of my immense gratitude.

10.13am: We arrive back in the classroom. And just as I let out a sigh of relief and take a moment to bask in the glow of my triumph, a TWO YEAR OLD says she needs to go to the bathroom…

And guess who everybody looks at?

Comments

  1. ha ha Julie-Lee. I, also being previously disadvantaged with a case of 'Bathroom Protocol Ignorance' have a somewhat messier tale to tell. A little boy needed to go..He was too short to stand and do what needed to be done, so I took the brilliant decision that he had to sit. Somewhat confused, but being of the male species and less prone to stage fright, he did what he was there to do. I too, had to hold him on the seat to prevent mishap, and stood helplessly and watched as everything just poured out beteween the seat and made an unapologetic puddle all around my feet.
    I was belatedly told that in that case I was supposed to 'hold it down' .
    Huh? I think a little stool, of the plastic can-stand-upon kind was the simplest remedy. ;-) I love your style.

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