As I mentioned before, I'm trying desperately to keep these boys entertained and to burn their boundless amounts of energy. It's a losing fight. But I'm giving it a valiant attempt.
We went swimming at the YMCA so I could put Judah in the nursery and just have the big boys in the pool with me. The nursery closes at 12:00, so after swimming for a bit, I left Luke and Eli in the splash pad area and ran in to change and get Judah. As soon as I walked in, I was assaulted by both the harried look on the nursery attendants faces and the smell of my child's very full diaper. Needless to say, they were busy and he stank. I grabbed him, ran back out to the boys, hustled them inside dripping so we could go the family bathroom that is all the way through and across the entire building and change Judah's diaper and their suits. (I'm not complaining, but does anyone agree that they could make the family bathroom a little more conveniently located to the pool area? Just sayin'.) Eli was carrying my wet things wrapped in a towel and Luke had one of the bags.
We made it to the bathroom where all hell broke lose as I was trying to change everybody and get our stuff together. I won't go into all the gory details, but I'm pretty sure there was a, "Mama! Look at my hiney, it's got a fart!" and maybe a "Mama, I'm naked, don't let Luke see me naked!" and definitely a "Ooooh!!! Poop!!!" all at top decibels. And I know for a fact that I was standing their thinking, "God, did you
really have to make boys so loud?" and probably, "Okay, God, my pride is officially in the toilet. I'm completely humble. Please make it stop."
We wrapped up that mess, and I shoved them all out of the bathroom door, where I stopped dead in my tracks. For there, on the floor, directly in front of a sweet, elderly gentleman, were my swimsuit bottoms. Crotch up. We exchanged polite smiles (actually, he already had quite a wide grin on his face), I scooped up my suit and my youngest child who had planted himself in front of the man for a visit and made as quick an exit as possible.
I guess the moral of the story is to never let your children be in charge of your underpants.