I Am Not A Wimposaurus

My 5-year-old nephew is coming for a visit from Michigan. I'm picking him up tonight and dropping him off next week. I'll try to continue to post everyday but if I'm not around this weekend and into next week, you know why. I caught up with my comments, except for yesterday's post. I promise to fill you in about Anita and that crazy iron lung of hers soon.

During our last visit, in July, Dino-Mike kept me really busy. We hunted for bugs in the forest preserve, dug for dinosaurs bones in my backyard, went swimming in a hotel pool, visited one of those little kid arcade places called Jeepers, sang Jeepers Creepers at least a million times, we rode bumper cars, visited family members, went to the park, roller bladed and skateboarded, drove around like two crazies on my lawn tractor, we fed and rode horses and at the hotel, one of us pooped in the Jacuzzi.

After the accusation of me being a wimp about the lizard tail I found in my son's pocket, I thought I should share with you the story of the poopy that got away. There we were relaxing in hot, bubbly goodness, when suddenly Dino-Mike's smile turned to a rather thinking kind of look. I could no longer smell chlorine in the air, this smelled more like bathtub farts. I looked at that child like a dog with my head cocked to the side as if to ask, "Do you smell that?"

His eyes twinkled as he smiled the biggest smile one can while missing a front tooth. I smiled back. I thought about how adorable he was and laughed at the thought of fart jokes always being a hit amongst 5-year-old audiences. He put his feet in the air declaring victory of the smelliest fart any nose has ever smelt, and that's when I saw it being bashed about by the bubbles.

Now giggling and pointing at his out of control poopy splashing around, Dino-Mike asked me to do the unthinkable, "Auntie Lois, catch it!"

Did I mention yet that I was in the very same Jacuzzi with the boy and his swimming turd? Feeling like the Tidy Bowl Man, I said, "Listen kid, I am out of here, and there's no way I am going to catch the poopy. I think it's time for us to get out of here and let your poopy have some quality alone time."

I picked him up and wrapped him in a towel. He never took his eyes off of his floating masterpiece. I'll admit that was a large log for such a small kid but I thought he might have been just a little too proud of himself.

Lane 1 and Lane 2 got out of the pool to look at the poopy in the Jacuzzi. Both laughed so hard they had tears running down their faces. Lane 1 high-fived Dino-Mike and told him that was the coolest and funniest thing he ever saw. Lane 2 was crossing her legs as if trying to keep from peeing on herself.

Embarrassed as all hell, I went to the service desk of the hotel. "Excuse me, sir." I said, feeling as big as a kernel of corn within the poopy.
The poor guy had no idea what he was in for as he smiled at me, "Yes, how may I help you?"

"You can start by taking this boy with a case of the lazy bowels. Next I would like you to remove the giant log of shit out of the Jacuzzi. Then I want it sterilized and refilled so maybe I can actually have a moment to relax without being accompanied by said log."

What I really said was, "I am so sorry! I mean, I thought he was potty trained and stuff. I mean what 4-year-old isn't. Oh my God, um, the kid, the little one, he just dumped in your Jacuzzi mister. And it's an out of control bubbly bonanza going on in there and I don't think I could catch the poopy if I tried." I avoided making eye contact with the man by looking at the floor where my dripping body had left a huge puddle around my feet, looking as though I had just pissed in my swimsuit in his lobby.

"Excuse me?"
"He crapped! It's in the Jacuzzi, bouncing in the bubbles."
"We have to close the pool area and have it cleaned immediately."

This was sounding like a real live emergency as the man picked up the phone to call for assistance of his cleaning staff. He spoke loudly, quickly and in Spanish. Does anyone know what "¡Ay, mierda, una loca puta!" means?

I scooped up the kids and we headed for our room. I felt like we should have been grounded for that little stunt. Instead I packed our bags and told the kids we would just go ransack some other hotel with a pool.

This is where Dino-Mike's lecture came in. "When we go back downstairs, I want you to look very sad and tell that man you are sorry for making a mess in his Jacuzzi."
"Okay Auntie Lois."

Bags packed and ready to turn in our key after a four-hour stay, I nudged my nephew. He took a big deep breath and told the man he was sorry. I apologized again, handed my key to him and he handed me my $90 back.

I tried to hold in my glee as I suspected that $90 was down the drain. As we walked out of that hotel, I could no longer hold back my smile. We had four hours of free fun and best of all, I didn't have to clean up the poopy that got away. I popped the trunk, loaded the bags, made sure the seatbelts were on the kids correctly, and then I spotted it, across the street.

"Hey guys? Instead of driving all the way back home, how about we go to that hotel?"
Lane 1 asked, "Do they have a pool?"
"Sign says they do."
Lane 2 asked, "Do they have a Jacuzzi?"
"Signs says yes to that too."
Lane 2 asked, "Does it have a Lincoln Log floating in it?"
Dino-Mike said, "Not yet!"