Weak Stomach? Skip this one…

After swim lessons today (which I also need to blog about, but I just need to get this one out!) I wanted to quickly run to Walmart for a couple items we needed. The boys were still in their swimsuits but since it was quick, it wasn’t a big deal, right? RIGHT???
We get there and all is well. I’m looking for some things on my list that I can’t find and Devon tells me he has to pee and poo. I go to the back of the store to get my site-to-store item and there is a bathroom there. Great! I tell Carson and Devon to just use the Men’s since Carson never wants to use the girl’s bathroom anyways, and it was closed for cleaning, so they go into the men’s bathroom. 5 minutes pass, which I am waiting for someone to help me anyways. I keep hearing squeals of delight coming from my boys, but men keep going into the bathroom and so I can’t really peek in now, could I. I even asked one of the guys coming out if they were goofing off and he said no. Well then what the heck were they doing?
So 5 more minutes pass, but I fail to hear them much anymore. The lady is helping me at that point. She gets the item I had ordered and I’m getting worried about my boys. So I ask the cleaning guy (total teenager with no sympathy) to please tell my boys to come out. He just stares at me and so I ask again–again, just stares. I go to open the door, no longer caring what I see upon entering the men’s bathroom, and Devon is standing there, with poop all over his legs and in his swimsuit–pulled down to his ankles. “Mom, I pooped my swimsuit!” Now, what am I supposed to do? The women’s bathroom is closed, the teenager is useless anyways, and so the nice lady helping me even asks him to close the men’s bathroom for me, and he just smiles. She checks the family bathroom (man, I wish I’d known THAT was there!) and it’s empty. I take Devon in–I have no clothes, a couple wipes, and a bunch of paper towels. It was even in his sandals. So I do the best I can, but man, this was some awfully sticky poop that just wasn’t coming off. I wrap his clothes up, but now he’s naked. The teenager is just standing outside the door waiting to clean the family bathroom, Carson is asking me “Why did Devon poop? Why did he get poop in his shoe? Why are you wiping him up? Why did he get poop on the floor? Why are you wrapping him up in paper towels? Is that going to be his diaper?” So I’m gathering everything up and trying to hold these paper towels on him, I open the door, drop everything cause I’m a clutz, and his make-shift paper-towel underwear falls to the floor. The kid is still standing there, watching everything. I’m so flustered at this point, I slam the door shut on him and lock it, try to have Carson help me get everything without getting poop on him, and make it out holding the back of Devon’s “underwear”. The lady sees my troubles and says, “Oh, I think we have pull-ups. Do you want one?” Thank you! She was nice enough to get the kind that look like shorts–did you even know they exist? They do. And maybe I should stash one in my purse. I have these types of things in the van, but I was at the back of the store. And there was still dried poo on him since it just wasn’t coming off, and I wasn’t going to sit him in the cart naked! So bless that lady for helping me out, since no one else cared!

Ugh, the joys sometimes! The end.