I remember somewhere seeing a column called “Was My Face Red” or something to that effect. You could have the pleasure of reading about the woman whose skirt was tucked up around her waist after visiting the restroom, or the unsuspecting person dragging toilet paper through the upscale restaurant on her heel. There is a theme here, right? Well, I do believe I was victim of one of “those moments”.
We–meaning Emily, my sister, the two littles, and I–had finally arrived at our destination-Columbus, Ohio for the Country Living Craft Show! We drove up to the hotel in downtown Columbus after a rather long, rough road trip. Since it was valet parking we tried to move quickly, but traveling with two youngsters we had several snack/goodie bags along with our regular luggage. I jumped out, unhitched Baby Sylvie from the confines of her seat, and gave her a big squeeze, her little arms wrapping around my neck eagerly. I turned from the car and shifted her to my other shoulder to help with the bags. She kicked her legs gratefully and wiggled closer, a big, endearing smile on her face. As I placed more bags on the cart I became aware of her soggy bottom and the porter’s incredulous, but not unsympathetic, glance. I looked down. Emily gasped. I was covered with baby poo- on both arms, jacket, sweater, pants. Sylvie, who had been taking antibiotics for an ear infection, had had what Emily aptly called a “blow-out”.
As I stood at the front desk the young woman smiled her welcome, then politely averted her eyes. After all, this was Ohio (see Emily’s post). We rode the elevator to our room with several other guests and our luggage cart. By now Mary and I were giggling self-consciously, while the kindly porter muttered something about “these things happening.” When we reached our room, Sylvie was kicking joyfully, Mary was gasping, Chloe was smiling shyly, and this major question was whirling in my head,” How much do you tip a guy who has shared an elevator with your poo-covered self?”