I gotta go. Now.

Amy’s bladder seems to go from empty to full in a millisecond. At home, the urgency is funny. In the car, it is even more comical as one parent tries to establish the amount of time we have to choose a stopping place while the other parent does time and distance studies in their head to identify the cleanest choices nearby. On a long trip down unfamiliar roads, the parents completely lose their sense of humor. After a few mad dashes into rest areas, restaurants and gas stations, Evan figured out that he wasn’t going to get let out of his car seat and be allowed the freedom to run that he constantly craves unless he chose the same excuse as Amy. At one rest stop, he declared his desire to go potty. “Really?” I joke that the boy cares about play far too much to be bothered by anything as inconvenient as maintaining dry britches, but hope springs eternal, so I took Evan in the bathroom. We stepped in the crowded little area and I didn’t even have Evan seated when the auto-flush did its’ thing. “I done.” Sigh. Maybe we should stop at outhouses. Evan might find them less scary.

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