Wet Pants and Wally World

So this afternoon I had a craving for french toast with raspberries on top....I load up the kids in the freezing cold weather and head to my least favorite (but most economical) place to get groceries - the always exciting WalMart. It was 4:05, I didn't really want to go out again today, the kids were probably hungry and in need of a snack, but off I went.

As soon as we pulled out of the driveway Sadie was signing "more" and Sam was screaming for pretzels. I purposely left my usual trappings of purse and diaper bag at home so I could honestly tell them I had nothing. Nada. Zip. I get tired of handing items back to the two of them and had decided they could make it through the next 45 minutes without nourishment. I signed "all gone" back at Sadie, told Sam we were all out of pretzels, dialed my dad on my cell phone and tried to ignore them.

Not such an easy thing to do. I truly had nothing to offer Sadie, but eventually Sam conned me into handing him back a random juice box that he saw lying on the floor leftover from a Happy Meal who knows how many days ago. I stuck the straw in and handed it back. Not a wise idea. Instead of the peace and quiet I was hoping for, I was immediately struck with hysterical screaming. Sam, of course, had squeezed the juice box despite my many warnings not to, and now had half of the juice box in his lap. He was wet from crotch to knee on both legs. Nice. I briefly contemplated going back home (I wouldn't want to go anywhere with wet pants, should I really make him?) but my craving for french toast won out. Plus - I thought I had a pair of dry pants somewhere in the car....which I was even able to locate upon parking in the parking lot.

I thought everything would be fine - switch pants and head on in - no problem. Not so.

Sam (still sitting in his car seat): I HAVE WET PANTS! MY PANTS ARE WET! I WANT TO GO HOME!
Me: Sammo - I have some dry pants. We can put them on and it will be fine.
Sam: NO - I WANT WET PANTS! (Say what?!)
Me: No. You need to put on dry pants. Otherwise you will get cold. It is freezing outside. You don't want to be in the store and be wet and cold, do you?
Sam: YES! I WANT WET PANTS! DON'T TAKE MY PANTS OFF!
Me (while attempting to change his pants): You are putting on dry pants. See - you will be so much warmer.
Sam (while stepping back out of the dry pants I just put on his body): NO THANK YOU! NO THANK YOU! (Thanks to Michelle M. for teaching my son to be so polite!)
Me (while wrestling him back into the pants): Sam. Calm down. We are going into the store. Now put your shoes back on.
Sam: No. I don't want to wear shoes.
Me (willing to give in on the shoes since the pants are actually still on his body): Ok. But if you don't wear shoes your feet will get cold. And you will have to stay in the cart the whole time. No getting out to walk.
Sam: No shoes.
Me: So where do you have to stay in the store?
Sam: Walking.
Me: Then I am putting your shoes on.
Sam: In the cart.
Me: OK. Let's go. (Seriously reconsidering the need for french toast at this point.)
Sam: My underwear is wet.
Me: It just soaked through from the juice. Do you want to put a pullup on? (I didn't have any spare undies in the van, and the only pullup I could find was one of Sadie's with Dora on it.)
Sam: IT'S SADIE'S! NO!
Me: It will still fit you. It's dry. Anyway, you like Dora!
Sam: No. Wet underwear. Dry pants. No shoes.
Me: Whatever, dude. Let's get going.
Sam (now in the cart in the freezing cold with no shoes on): MY FEET ARE COLD! (followed by hysterical crying)
Me: If you cry in the store you will not get to play with your trains at all tonight.
Sam: (silence)

I should have pulled out the trains much earlier in this conversation!

So we make it in and manage to get what we need for my craving plus, of course, at least $50 of other random items I decided we need. The cart is full and I am ready to check out.

Sam: I need to go potty.
Me: Are you serious!?
Sam: Yes. I held it in a long time.
Me: You really have to go?
Sam: Yes.

So I head to the bathrooms and try to figure out what to do. You can't take a full cart in and I am afraid that if I leave it alone someone will consider it abandoned and take it away and then I would have to go refill it and I just don't think I can take that at this point. (You'll have to excuse that quite impressive run-on sentence.)I want to go home and have my french toast!!!

I decide to stay with the cart with Sadie and send Sam in the women's bathroom. He usually insists on going in the stall by himself anyway, so I figure this will work. I try not to think about the fact that he has no shoes on and just pray the floor is not wet in there....and hope that he doesn't think about the fact that I told him he was not allowed to get out of the cart. He goes in and immediately comes back out. "There's people in there!" he tells me. Seriously, child, there are always people in the bathroom!! So we all go in, me praying the whole time my cart will be there when we get back, and thankfully it is. We manage to check out without any issues from my children and even make it back to the car without Sam noticing that his shoeless feet are cold.

And then we went home and had french toast. And it was delicious.