No Way

Last night we made our way to Nordstrom for a preview of the big sale they are having this weekend. It's a great sale--40% off and Mark needs a suit. And here, the story begins. Mark parks the car and we walk the mile to the store entrance. You see, I am not one to stalk those returning to their car, but I do attempt to reduce the kid schlepping distance whenever possible, not Mark. He makes no effort whatsoever to park closer to the entrance, no matter how easy it is.

So, after arriving at the Nordstrom entrance, we wander up to the 3rd floor. We walk all the way over to the men's section. At this point Makena issues the alert, "I need to go to the potty." As if everyone's life depends on it, I sweep her up and race back down the stairs to the 1st floor and scurry into the first available stall--in record time, I'm certain. With the adrenalin still rushing through my veins, we stand looking at the toilet and she says, "You first"... "Me first?.. um, I don't have to go Makena." "No, you first." "Really, I'm good." After a bit of back and forth she agrees to hop on the potty. We wait and wait and talk about her new underwear. Then she says, "My pee pee is sleeping. I can't wake it up." "Hmmm. Really?" "Yes, it's ni-ni." "Hmmm.. are you sure?" "Yes." So, off the potty she comes and back to the third floor we go.

There we find Mark looking at four suits the salesperson has laid out for him. Makena explains what happened at the potty; the salesperson is thrilled. Just as Mark was asking me what I thought, I hear, "Mommy, I have to go to the potty." "Are you sure?" "Yes." And off across the store and down the stairs we go. This time however, her poopies was asleep. But, she was able to wake it. Excellent!! Shew, back to daddy we go with a full report on the happenings at the potty.

Okay, now, where were we.... "I think I like tha-" "Moooommy, I have to go poopy again." "What?" "Yeah!" I'm exhausted by this point. Mark galliantly offers to go this time as the salesperson stands in disbelief. He walks the fourteen steps to the men's restroom and returns minutes later, "Yep, she had to go." Apparently she only woke up part of her poopies the last time.

SURELY, we are done with the potty now, right? Hmmm, then, what's that smell? Kessler decides not to be outdone (much like his daddy) and... we had no wipes. So, we make the command decision to just hurry and change him when we are done. Did we forget that we were picking out a suit, that would need to be sized.. and that we hadn't narrowed it down from the original four? Yes, we did forget each of those facts. Realizing that continuing to keep Kessler in his soiled diaper was cruel to anyone within 50 feet, including Kessler, we decided to pretend like we are good parents. Mark remembered that the restrooms had diaper/wipe dispensers so he asks the salesperson (who absolutely loves us by now) to give him change for a dollar. Once again I go off to the women's restroom. "Out of order" the sign that is affixed to the diaper/wipes dispenser says. You have to f&*(#%$ be kidding me, I say. Back to the men's section. Mark once again leaves the salesperson stranded while he goes to purchase wipes from the men's restroom. He returns, proud of his resourcefulness. "Mark, I think this is only a diaper." "No, it said it had wipes." "No, it's only a diaper." "Nooo, it has wipes." I open the box; show him it's empty and hold up the only thing that came from the box--a diaper. In the meantime, we pick the suit, the perfect suit mind you, but he still needs to be fitted and to pay for it.

Really, the only responsible thing to do is take Kessler to the car and change him. So, off I go, across the store, down the stairs, back across the store, to the last parking space in the lot. I change Kessler and head back to the men's section relieved that it must be over soon. I arrive at the counter; Mark turns with a look of pure despair, "The suit is not on sale." We leave tearful and suitless.