Last week the kids and I were on an airplane, flying back from our 2 week vacation in Colorado. We had all gone to the bathroom before getting on, and had been in the air about 3 hours when I realized we would begin our descent soon. I asked C if he needed to go potty. This is roughly how that conversation went:
Me: Do you need to go potty?
Me: Are you sure?
Me: Really, really sure?
C: How many times do I have to say it?! (Don’t you love it when they use your own phrases against you.)
Me: Because I need you to be really, really sure. Here’s what’s going to happen; the pilot will turn on the fasten seat belt sign and we’ll start going down and if you need to go potty then, there is NO WAY you will be able to get out of your seat and go to the bathroom. Do you understand?
C: I don’t have to go.
Me: Just try standing up in your seat to make SURE.
C: (standing) Mom, I don’t have to go.
So, I believed him. After he convinced me for about 10 minutes, that is. The pilot announced we would begin our descent in a few minutes, and C and I repeated the above conversation.
Five minutes into the descent C starts to yell and scream, “I NEED TO GO PEE!” I knew it. He continued to freak out as we taxied, and then the plane stopped. I tried moving as fast as possible, but by the time I got him unbuckled and my giant body up, the exit for our aisle was completely blocked by a Hasidic Jewish man and his impossibly huge carry on. Side note: there is NO WAY his carry on was legal: I have no idea how he got them to let him take it on. He stood there, in a daze, while I kept asking him to move and C was screaming. Finally, the woman standing behind him, who was also trying to get him to move, turned to me and said, “Just hand me your son and I’ll try and get him down to the bathroom.” I picked him up and lifted him over the seat, and she him down in the aisle, pointing him towards the back of the plane. Of course, C freaked at the idea of being separated from me and started trying to climb up the seat to get back to me. By this time, I’m sweating from every pore in my body and wondering what the heck I’m going to do when he wets himself.
Suddenly, a man two rows back says, “Excuse me, can you use this?” He hands me a ziplock tupperware container, complete with lid and about 5 napkins neatly folded in the bottom. I gratefully said, “YES!” and lifted C back over the seat. We pulled his pants down and he peed in the tupperware, not even splashing any out, thanks to the napkins in the bottom. I snapped the lid on, and we disposed of it on the way to baggage claim. It was, in my opinion, a miracle.