The Kidling and Target have a pact. Even though The Mama requires that she tend to her business prior to commencing shopping (or sit her scrawny little kidling butt on the toilet and try to tend to said business), she always, always, always must pee when we are in the back of the store.
I do believe I have kvetched about this before.
This weekend she began to wiggle in the middle of the store. Huh. I ignored the first half-dozen or so takes. Somewhere around Potty Dance Take 8, I asked, “Do you need to use the toilet, Alice?”
“No,” she replied.
Fair enough. The shopping continued. We were looking at storage canisters when the wiggling began again. I inquired a second time and was informed that it wasn’t the potty dance I was witnessing, rather, “I’m just dancing to the music.” In other words, a regular dance.
Fair enough. I continued my comparison: round or square, stackable or not, glass or ceramic? Then—
“Mom,” Alice cried out, “I have to go right now!”
Her urgency worried me, so of course I asked, “Did you have an accident?!”
“No,” Alice assured me calmly, “It’s all still up in my vagina.”
And thank god for that.