(Go ahead, judge me. I deserve it.)
I was sure it would help my case that the police officer was a male, as he could empathize with my little boy’s full bladder and the fact that it’s actually faster to pull over and let him drop trou on the side of the road. As he walked over, I quickly began justifying my actions in the most
manipulative…I mean, logical and honest of ways.
“Well Officer, he hasn’t been potty trained for that long and when he says he has to go, you can guarantee, in less than 5 min., he’s gonna go. And, well, I told him to go before we left the house just down the road and he said he didn’t have to. I won’t make that mistake again! Next time I will MAKE him go before we leave! AND he doesn’t have his pants around his ankles…they are just below his cute little 3-year-old buns. I am blocking him as best I can! I’m sorry! I know I should have gone into the store and used the facilities, but you see, I am somewhat of a germaphobe and public restrooms make my skin crawl. And port-o-pots, well, I feel like sanitizing my hands after just looking at one!”
I paused long enough to breathe and then apologized profusely. Some call it groveling. I call it, not going to jail for indecent exposure and urinating on public property/grass (even if it was done by a 3-year-old)!
“I won’t do it again (knowing that I would, I would just pick a less traveled patch of grass next time), Sir! I’m so, so sorry! I have always been one to ask forgiveness rather than permission. I’ve learned my lesson!”
I noticed a grin start to spread across his face.
Cue inner monologue: “Oh no! He’s going to make an example out of me, I just know it! When the police station or DFCS calls Chris to come and pick up our child, while I’m sitting in a jail cell with a prostitute and teenager who was arrested the night before for public intoxication, well, I just don’t know how I will explain this to him?! There’s always a positive side. I’m wearing my “Be Bold” bracelet from church, maybe I can share with the gals in my cell! Yeah! It all makes sense now!”
About 5.3 seconds had passed without a word.
I looked down to see my son with his jeans now around his ankles. Thankfully his lightning McQueen underpants were pulled up! He was grinning from ear to ear up at the policeman.
Just then, my sweet boy exclaimed with utter delight, “YOU’RE A COMMUNITY HELPER!!!”
“That’s right, son. I sure am.” said the officer proudly.
He then looks at me and says, “Ma’am, that was quite an explanation you gave. You an attorney?”
“No, Sir.,” I replied.
“I’m a writer who loves photography and my day job is, Preschool Director… at my church.” (Ughhhhh, please don’t ask which church!)
By this time I was sure that my entire face was red and my chest was splotchy (this is what happens when I am humiliated).
He chuckled, making me feel even more inadequate as a mother and someone who cares for others children.
I couldn’t see his expression through the dark lenses of his glasses. “I have a grandson about your boy’s age. He loves to pee in the yard. I hated to stop your speech, seein’ as you were on such a role. Though it wasn’t necessary.”, he said.
“Really?! You have no idea…”
He interrupted, “I admire you for allowing your son to be a boy. Maybe next time you could avoid the grass right off a major road. Some people tend to frown on things like this.”
“Um, yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir! Thank you! I’m sure your grandson is a fine boy!” (Did I really just call his grandson a fine boy?! Shut up, Joy!!!)
“Have a nice day, young lady.”
“You too!” I said with enthusiasm while waving vigorously as he drove away. My child still standing in his underwear with his pants around his ankles said, “Mom, can we go now?!”
“Yes, Darling. Thank the Lord, we can!”
There are three takeaways from this story…
#1 ~ Talk less.
#2 ~ Never judge a mother letting her child go number one on the side of the road. Find out the circumstances. Then you can judge.
#3 ~ Don’t talk about others in a negative light, one day you may find yourself doing the exact same thing that made you think them absurd.