Tiny Voice ALWAYS knows best!

The Tiny Voice, the voice of reason. The voice that I surely should listen to more often. The voice that today I ignored. The voice that I so wish I had listened to hours before. The voice that could have saved me from a really ‘shitty’ buzz.

My darling daughter Sophie has now gone one full week diaper free! Oh how my heart soars, and spirit lifts when I think about a diaper free existence after 5 long agonizing years. Although I am very proud of my girl, we have ran into a pretty dire roadblock along the way. This is; that the child cannot seem to wrap her head around having to pull down underwear or pants when having to use the loo.

So for the last week, we have been going commando and ‘the long dress’ has been a fair friend to say the least.

Today, upon waking, there was a fall chill in the air and rain was pounding down. Lars had school, and I was in need of a grocery shop. I had no choice but to bring her out into public, no choice but to cover her bottom half in pants to keep her warm, no choice but to ignore that tiny voice that was insisting that this was a bad idea…NO CHOICE I TELL YOU!

Before leaving I ask her to use the potty, she does. Delightful, yet only of the #1 variety, not the result in which I was looking for.

“If an accident happens in public Lindsay, it isn’t #1 that you need be worried about..” The tiny voice stated in a way that made me cringe and sweep the thought to the outer most place in my mind.

We drop the boy off at his school and before leaving again I ask Soph if she needs to use the schools bathroom. An irritated NO is the response I get, so I drop the subject until we get to Wal-Mart.

“Ok let’s try to use the big girl potty in the store, Soph!” I say in a disturbingly loud and over-enunciated way.

“OKAY!!!” The girl spouts, in a tone that mimics her mothers.

And there we are in the bathroom of Wal-Mart and she pee’s in the Big Girl Potty for the first time. I am so ecstatic I can hardly announce my joy to the girl. In the end I do, and the entirety of the bathrooms company shares in my delusional joy.

“What about #2?” The tiny voice again is sprouting in my brain…Screw you tiny voice! Just let me have this moment with my daughter…SCREW YOU!

This is no exaggeration…I literally think these words in response to my own thoughts…What do they say the definition to lunacy is again?

So we pick up a few of the bits and pieces we are in need of, and as we are nearing the aisle of our last item on list I begin to smell an oh so familiar tang.

“Oh No” I say it aloud and a few Wal-Mart patrons look in my general direction…They are trying not to be noisy but now cannot look away.

“I told you soooo…”  Tiny voice beams in.

Sophie is walking bow-legged alongside me. I can see the brown spot upon her light pink leggings slowly but surely saturating and it only takes an instant for mortification to take over.

All the while The Tiny Voice laughing hysterically at my predicament.

“Well at least it is still confined within her pretty blue-with-the-pink-lace princess panty’s.” The Tiny Voice says this only to spite, since as soon as the thought crosses me, I find leaking substance trailing behind the girl.


The Tiny Voice has all too soon left me alone to deal with my troubles solo.

“I poo Mama, I poo!” Sophie has now begun voicing to the entire store, in a louder volume than her usual mumbling that she has shit herself.  Beautiful, just beautiful.

Her octave level gets higher with every step taken…Every trace of diarrhea smudged behind her little Dora shoes.

I am now looking frantically from side to side, hoping to the high heavens that no one has seen this debacle. Clearly in a place like this, someone is bound to see, and they do. People are pointing, disgust is written all over their faces.

“Potty training…” It is the only thing I can think to say.

Not even a full sentence for the love of God!

There I am with a basket of groceries in one arm, Sophie propped ass-up in the other, shit running every which way that produces a stench that is beginning to fill up the place, and madly saying to anyone I pass ‘Potty training..’ like a forlorn idiot!

I get to the check-out…Yep you read it right, I still am buying the damn groceries as I really needed the items in which I shopped for. So I get to the cashier,  she is looking at me with the kid under my arm. I plunk down the basket and feel that somehow, for some reason this stranger who is ringing through my groceries owes it to me to take them out of the basket herself.

She does without question, ‘must be a Mother’ I think.

As she scans each item, which seems to be taking a painfully long time, she looks at me with this pathetic stare. Like she is looking deep into my core. Like she wants to say something, but just can’t bring herself to say it.

Meanwhile Sophie squirms under my arm, the poo has now began to sting all senses and is so overwhelming the people behind me have left a good 3 foot gap and are waiting to place their groceries on the conveyer belt until my poop-filled daughter and I leave.

As I maneuver Sophie around to get at my bank card, I manage to smudge some remnants of fecal matter on the debit machine in which EVERYBODY shutters while I try to dab it off with the bottom of my shirt.

Once again I turn to the lot of them and say, “Potty training..” in my deplorable way.

As I am leaving the store, I hear a woman over the intercom saying in a mechanical voice, “Clean-up in aisle 7” I look to my rear and see the cashier using some sort of disinfecting spay to remedy mine and Sophie’s blunder.

As I strap Sophie into her seat, The Tiny Voice decides to revisit me and with one sweet sentence changes the way I will forever think in the future when it comes to the advice of my Tiny Voice.

“I wonder if anyone got that ‘shit’ on camera…Next thing you know, you and Soph will be the next big stars on ‘The people of Wal-Mart’!”


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