Y'all...

Last Friday.  It was a doozy.  

The plan was to pick up Sam from school and take him to get his Easter sandals.  (It's an activity every almost-6-year-old boy looks forward to.) In order to make things a little more palatable, I promised him that if he was good, we would run into Beagle Bagel afterwards, and he could pick out a treat.  

Oh, I forgot to mention...since the shoe store is about a mile from our house, I failed to BRING THE DIAPER bag.  We got into the store, and unfortunately, there was a wait.  As we stood there, I began to smell something.  And it wasn't good.  

I realized that we had to get in and out of there as soon as possible.  When it was Sam's turn, I think we tried on shoes and paid for them as fast as is humanly possible.  

I snatched Alex up and began to leave, but Sam reminded me of my promise for a treat.  Surely at 1:30 there won't be a crowd at Beagle Bagel, right?  

Wrong.  

There was a huge line.  We went to the end and I put Alex on my hip.  And that's when I felt it.  My shirt was wet.  And it smelled.  And there was more wet "stuff"  leaking down Alex's leg.  

I grabbed Sam, told him we had to leave, and practically ran out the door.  Poor Sam didn't get his promised treat, so he started crying,  Alex was laughing, and I felt like crying because I was so grossed out and humiliated.  

Fun times indeed.