Don’t cross the streams!
So we were on our way home from Connecticut yesterday. Overall, the drive back took a little over 10 hours, I think. The east coast is basically one big parking lot from DC to Stamford, CT., from what I can tell.
We made one last stop in Maryland for gas and bathroom breaks. Ethan doesn’t really like using public restrooms. Earlier in the day we stopped at a rest stop in Jersey and he flat out refused to go to the bathroom. I can’t blame him, though, the place stank like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. About 2 minutes after we got back on the road, he said he had to go, so we ended up “watering the grass” (photos still in camera).
We walk into the bathroom and squeeze into a normal sized stall. All the while Ethan’s saying “I’m not going to go to the bathroom, I’m just not going to do it!”. After I shut the door, Ethan, while still going on and on about how he’s not going to go to the bathroom, lifts up the seat and starts pulling his pants down. I figure I’ll just wait for him to finish, but no. Ethan says “Daddy, you go first!”, so I do. About halfway through, Ethan says “Let’s go together!” and away he goes. He wasn’t aiming very well, as he shot right over the toilet and hit the opposite wall. Luckily he didn’t hit me.
The entire time I’m thinking “Well, at least he’s peeing”, “This is just not right”, and “Whatever you do, Ray, don’t cross the streams!” all at once. I didn’t know whether to laugh or remember to write it all down for future embarassment.