Grass

Flying down the main channel to our neighborhood, Zoe piped up, "I need to PEEEEEEE! PEEEEEEEEE NOOOOOOW"!

"We are almost home. Two minutes, baby!" came out of my mouth as I started to pit out of my pajama top I had yet to get out of for the day.

"No. NOW." came from the backseat.

The last time we had this conversation it ended in me elbow-deep in warm soapy water, a scrub brush, and an hour I didn't have to stand in the drive way scrubbing a gallon of urine out of a top-of-the-line-costs-more-than-a-plane-ticket-down-south-at-spring-break-time car seat.

"Can you hold it? Our house is right up here..." I trailed off thinking we still had to pass the horse farm, icicle house, and the two elementary school crossing guards who seem to think that even if there is nary a school aged walker in site, they must hold up a STOP sign until all children are safely in their homes stuffing down an Easy Mac or something.

"Nooooooooooooo!" cried a desperate two year old.

I did what any desperate parent would do. I yanked the car into the side of the road, ran around to Zoe's seat, unbuckled her straps, pulled down her leggings, panties, and held her in the air so the Iowa wind would whip it away from us, as opposed to all over us.

No such luck. Zoe was breathing a sigh of relief as she let out what I'm sure Sea Bisquit couldn't compete with and then said, "MUD"!

Knowing full well I had to get her into the car, dressed, and on our way before she showed an active interest in the mud she created below our feet, we were back on the road and in our house in minutes.

It felt good to handle a situation that could have sent me into a panic attack at the beginning of potty training with ease and a smile.

That smile was erased, however, as I went to accelerate and felt something squishy between my foot and the pedal.

"What the Fu--dge?" I cried as I got a whiff of the mud from the bottom of my shoe.

"Zo, did you just pee pee in the grass?"

"Nope! I even made a few pickles!"

Pickles = turds at our house, apparently.

Well, score. A Gerkin is now all over my pedals.