This is a little story about a recent “situation” and I’m not talking about the Jersey Shore’s Situation.
Our home is a labor of love. Which means many, many trips to Home Depot. Our latest project has been the living room. After 7 years of making do with furnishings handed down from family, we’ve finally decided to take the plunge and invest in furnishings and decor to dress the room to our own liking. Thank you Aunt Bern for the couch set that has served us so well for the past 7 years. Although our living room will no longer be suited to serve tea properly to royalty, we really appreciated the formal white Queen Anne parlor room set you so generously gave us.
We recently ordered a huge beautiful new chocolate leather sectional so that we can finally have a place to do Family Movie night in style. And now that the furniture is in, I’ve been on the hunt for new window hardware to complete the room. (if you read my previous post, you’d know I already purchased new curtains) I searched high and low for solid wood rods and finials to complement the rich brown leather sectional and even convinced my husband to invest real money to do the job right. I love Target, but sometimes you just need to splurge on the details, I convinced him. So, after browsing all the high end sites like Restoration Hardware, Pottery Barn and Smith and Noble – I landed upon the perfect set. From – believe it or not – Home Depot.
After lots of bribing with candy careful convincing, I dragged the kids into the minivan and off we drove to our home away from home, the Home Depot. With Matthew secured in his car seat in the shopping cart, Jake alongside me and Addison tagging along, I set out to procure the wooden rods, rings and finials I was so excited to discover online. And wait until I tell the husband there will still be money leftover in the budget for some new lighting fixtures!
Like every properly brainwashed consumer, I was immediately distracted by all the other items that lured me with their false sense of ease for other wish-list projects in our house. Look how beautiful that unstained carpet is – I’m sure it can’t be that hard to lay new carpet this weekend, I thought to myself.
“Mom, when can we climb on the tractors?” Jake begged.
“I have to pee,” whined Addison.
“ehhh. weeeeh,” Matthew fussed.
A few minutes later I had moved on to the doors and windows section. Oh, I love those 6-panel wainscoted wooden doors, how hard can it really be to swap out all our downstairs interior doors and hang these instead. Oh these would look so nice.
“Mom, c’mon. The tractors?” Jake begged.
“I have to peeeeee,” whined Addison.
“zzzz.” (I’ll admit it. Matthew is my favorite.)
Working my way into the electrical section, I admired some new fixtures that would really finish the room. Look at that classy looking reading lamp. That would look perfect in the corner of the room, tucked behind that new wingback upholstered chair I’ve had my eye on for so long. I should just go and buy that chair, I thought. I’ve always wanted a ‘spot’ to call my own in our house. This could be just the thing, I daydreamed…
“Mom, pleeeeeeease can we go to the tractors?” more begging from Jake.
“There’s no toilet paper,” whined Addison.
“zzzz.” (Still my favorite)
“Okay guys one more second – let me just…. Waitaminute….Addison, what do you mean there is no more toilet paper?”
“Well I peed but it wont flush and there is no toilet paper.”
Looking down, I noticed she is not wet (that is good) but her pants are bunched up all high like she had just pulled them back up. (that is bad)
“Addison, sweetheart, WHERE DID YOU PEE?”
Following Addison a short distance from the electrical section where I was just browsing light fixtures she leads me – as panic begins to set in – across the isle to the bathroom displays. Right to the beautiful Kohler showroom potty. Where she peed. With her urine still oozing from the base of the toilet on to the concrete floor, she proudly informs me,
“Mama, I peed on the potty but it won’t flush and there is no toilet paper.”
So I did what any Mother would do. Blinded by a giant white spot blurring my vision (not sure if it was from panic or from staring for too long at light fixtures) I grabbed both big kids, threw them into the shopping cart and got the hell outta dodge. Looking back only once, to make sure I didn’t forget a kid.
I was in the parking lot before Jake could even whine out one last valiant effort for tractor riding.
Note to readers: I did swallow my pride (sort of) and called the store anonymously from my cell phone as I fled the scene of the crime to notify them of the “situation” for sanitary purposes.
And here are my new curtain rods which I later drove an extra 15 miles for (sans kids) to purchase.