This past Saturday THE GIRL and I joined THE MAN while he was working. He films local events for the cable company and sometimes we go too because we like to leave the house.
And be with Daddy. (Of course. *cough*)
Saturday was a dance company’s Christmas program and we thought it was going to be one long show from 3-6 or 7. When we got there THE MAN was told that the little kids show was at 3, but the bigger kids performing Polar Express was at 7.
With THE GIRL (now 6 years old) in tow my thought was “oh hell no” or something to that effect thinking she would never last that long, bedtime is at 8, should we miss the 7 o’clock show to be on the safe side…. Then THE MAN says after the little kids show we could just go get dinner and then come back for the other show. This would feed the monster THE GIRL and let her run off some pent up energy and wipe out her reasons to not sit through the whole late show.
We went to McDonald’s because something resembling food and playground.
McDonald’s bathrooms are bad luck for me. I usually get locked in a stall or otherwise embarrass myself in front of strange women, and this time was no different.
I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet without injury. (Yay!) And thought since I was alone and no one could see me I would just pop out my contacts, clean them off and pop them back in. That way they’re clean and I don’t gross anyone out. (Some people don’t like seeing other people touching their eyeballs while they’re eating. Who knew?)
I popped the right one out, put it in my mouth (yeah, I know but I couldn’t see through it and had no solution. Helpful tip #31: Don’t use hair spray with your eyes open) then put it back in my eye. I could see. Then I popped out my left contact.
And dropped it.
My vision is bad enough that with just one lens in it is hard to see and my depth perception is nil. I frantically leaned over and looked in the creases of my jeans. Nothing.
“I can’t see. I’ll never find it.”
“Dammit! That’s my last one!”
“Can someone bring my husband in here?”
“Is it socially acceptable to ask a strange woman to bust in the stall door and kneel in front of my not-quite-exposed lady garden to help look for my contact?”
I took a deep breath and leaned over and found it on the floor between my feet.
Thank you, Jesus.
Being totally confounded, I carried on with the plan – I popped it in my mouth, licked it off and put it in my eye. I wiped, flushed, dressed myself, washed my hands and rejoined THE MAN in the booth.
“That did NOT go well. Ask what happened. ”
He asked, and as I was telling him he laughed, shook his head and looked at me like I was a poor, stupid puppy.
“So, basically, I just licked the floor in the bathroom…and put it in my eye.
And, I broke another nail.”
Still smiling, he said, “Just sit here and don’t move. Don’t move.”
Bathrooms are evil.