He Peed on a Man's Shoe

Not just any ole' shoe.  A suede shoe.  Before each neuro-integration therapy appointment, I make Dude visit the men's room.  Last week, I noticed 2 professional gentlemen walk into the restroom before Dude bounced his size 13's in behind them.  As I stood there, head against the wall and arms crossed, I heard squeals coming from my son, centering around "all the pee" and "crazy pee!"  I sunk a bit, dug my hands into my coat pockets and had nowhere to hide.  Then I heard one of the men say to the other, "Do you know this kid?"  "Nope.  Sure don't." More squealing from my six year old and a proclamation that "Well, looks like you guys are gonnna have to clean this all up!"

The two men exited the bathroom.  I was forced to make eye contact.  One says, "Well, things got a bit out of hand in there."  I apologized in an uncharacteristically sheepish voice.  He says, "Apologize to this man.  It was his shoe that paid the price."  Oh shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  I didn't have words (this is not common for me) and so I simply closed my eyes and nodded.

Dude bounded out of the bathroom and said, with shining eyes, "MOM!  I had two pee streams in there and one of them went CRAZY!  Like, all over the place!  It was totally awesome!"  I knelt down and looked my joy filled son in the eyes and said, in my most rational and with-it Mom voice, "Did you pee on that man's shoe? (the men were still in the hall conversing) "YES!  It was crazy mom!"  "Ok.  Honey, THAT is disgusting and totally inappropriate.  This is not funny."  Was that completely true?  No.  It was rather funny, but I couldn't let on to this factoid.  My son looked at me like I had just slapped his little cheeks.  He was shocked to learn this was all very inappropriate.  I asked him to go back into the bathroom, clean up the floor (or whatever else fell victim), flush the toilet and wash his hands for 2 rounds of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  He did so willingly, walked out of the bathroom with a slight skip in his step, approached the two men and said, "I'm sorry for being inpropriate.  I just had so much pee."  They accepted, told him we all learn from life experiences and we went to the brain doctor.  Seemed a very appropriate place to be after our little pee filled extravaganza.  I texted Tim the horrific details.  

Phase II of the pee story:
Today, as Dude bounced into the men's room, the pee on the shoe man walked toward us.  Really? Out of all the minutes in a day this old man could choose to pee, he chose this block of time?  Dude sees him and says, "Hey again.  It's my buddy!  Do you want to be buddies?"  The man is very sweet and entertains conversation with my oblivious son.  From the echoey bathroom I hear my monkey say, "Well, if we're gonna be best buds, we should probably share our names.  I'm Rylan.  Nice to meet cha!"  A minute later, the pee shoe man exits, looks at me and says, "Now THAT is one sweet kid maam."  And he walked away with a smile and a bit of a chuckle.

That's my kid.  He has a way of squeezing his way into your heart.  Pee streams on your suede shoe and all.