Make Me Laugh Monday – Cuz If You Can’t Laugh… The McDonald’s Germ Tube

I almost made it.

I was *this* close.

I almost made it through my entire mother-of-preschoolers career (an almost 11 year stint), without having one of my offspring pee, poop or vomit inside any one of the quite possibly, MILLIONS of play tubes their young knees have crawled in.

The Germ Tubes.

But my kids have left their own spittum and snot, I am sure of it. But keepin’ them juices from a Germ Tube is like keeping a poet from waxing cheesy, or Hitler from Evil…

Now, I HAVE been at a Germ Tube during select unfortunate situations:

• when some OTHER MOTHER’s kid vomited way up in the high recesses of Mt. Germ Tube… I’ve never seen so many mommies with portable car seats move so fast! Talk about Running of the Bulls!
• And I HAVE been the mom who – at 29.999 months pregnant – had to climb to the highest peak of Mt. Germ Tube to retrieve her almost 3 year old becausesp his sturdy belay of bright green, yellow and blue plastic… and also his MANY hours of experience… he decided to wait until mommy was the size of Michelin Man on a sodium drip to insist that ONLY she could save him.

This is not to mention the bullies (kids and mommies alike) and lost toys and sockless ventures into The Land of Germ-Return.

Why do I EVER go to McDonald’s. I can’t even say I’m insane. I’m not insane. As hard as I try…

I think, that after my many years of first-hand experience… a woman such as myself… at the first sign of the Golden Arches, I would dare offend the tenderest of ears and say, “HAY-LLLLLZ NO!“.

Not so much.

I was under the influence of also playing “Auntie”, and I wanted to buy my nephew’s love. Prove my cool.

Pride comes before a fall.

PRIDE comes before a fall…

So there we were, on minute 2 of the 3 minute warning. We needed to get out with efficiency. We were headed to church.

*insert evil laughter here*

My son (10) ran up to me, “MOM. Lucy peed!”

Me: *blinking* Wha? Whu? Huh? I? Hhhh? Wher…?

Son: SHE PEEED in THERE!

Me: No. Nononononononono. No. No.

Son: She DID.

Me: *insert in-mind expletives here*

Me: CRAP.

I went to the the Germ Yube entrance. Most of this is a blur because after a play place time of no other kids being there - 2 families with no less that 8 children filed in. Right. Then.

This is not a joke. This is my life.

I totally could pull the insanity card.

I gave my sone a stack of napkins and said, “Go. Wipe.”

And like a champ, he did. Not a squeak of dissension. I know he felt sorry for me.

He is my Golden Child.

Meanwhile, I stand at the gap — the entry point of Mt. Germ Tube… ready to break out defensive moves to keep 8 innocent children from entering and hithertofore frolicking in the wee-wee of my 4 year old… But fear not. Not one defensive move I needed to make, for my darling nephew was screaming… SCREAMIMG —>

EEEEEEEW!!! THAT’S SO GROSS!!! IT STINKS IN HERE!!!! THAT’S SO GROSS! IT REALLY STINKS IN HEEEERE!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!

I looked for a hole to crawl into. The only one I could find had pee in it.

I figured my nephew had our defense covered, so I went to the management. Head hanging low…

Hi. My daughter… You’re gonna hate us. My daughter is one of those kids… one of…. she totally just peed in your thing over there. I know. I can’t believe it either. Somebody’s gonna need ta… I mean, my son…. it’s all wiped up , but… Somebody better get in there and sanitize. *bats lashes*

I went back down to coax Lucy to SLIDE DOWN THE SLIDE. “I’m not going to kill you!”, I assured her…

Once we were ready to go – back home, and not to church… I realized the Mt. Germ Tube sanitizing crew had not yet made their visit. I went back to the management and badgered a bit. Finally the cute young man who delivered our food to us (Yes, he brought us our food…. I think he had a crush on me… it certainly had nothing to do with the fact I had spent no less that 2 hours pumping kethcup into 334 tuny cups and filling drink cups with fizzy corn syrup and thus and thereby forgetting about our order because I stretching after such extremes of physical exertion… Yeah… He was totally crushin’ on me, I’m sure…)

Where was I?

Oh yeah. The sweet young *jail bait* man. He came out to sanitize… I apologized to the point of laryngitis, turned on my heels and ordered the children (reminiscent of a Commander in the Marines) to “MOVE!MOVE!MOVE!”

*Insert commander-like arm moves here*

And if, in the end, I can’t laugh at something like this… then… strap me in a white jacket. Or just give me a padded room where I can sit, rocking in a corner, sucking my thumb.

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