Day 1416 - Fast Food, Slow Poop

This weekend, we made our way up to Northern California for our annual summer road trip.  The six hour trip always means two things:  a stop at McDonalds for lunch, and Andrew's constipation.  For the first time, both things happened at the same time.

While finishing up a delicious lunch of plastic chicken and salty fries, Andrew roamed over to an empty table, bent over, and gripped the seat.  His face turned red, and his eyes began to bulge.  Either he was recreating the infamous exploding head scene from the sci-fi classic Total Recall or his butt was about to explode.


I don't have a picture of Andrew, but I did a quick finger drawing on my iPad:

 

Andrew was pretty close to another couple trying to have their lunch.  I went over to take him away from a potentially explosive situation, but Andrew was too focused on getting to his end game.

"Nooooo!  Go away, Daddy!" Andrew shouted.

I didn't want to make it a bigger scene, so I just next to Andrew waiting for him to do his business.  There were a few time when Andrew bent over and basically pointed his stubborn butt towards this aforementioned couple.  I would try to pull him away, but Andrew would basically turn into a constipated Hulk and shoo me away.

But this grunting episode turned a little more dramatic and awkward when Andrew became very frustrated with his ass.

Andrew began to shout in the restaurant, "My bottom hurts!  My poopy won't come out!  I want my poopy to get OUT!"

I'm sure there were more than a few families who wished we would get out too.  I was a little torn between letting Andrew trying to finish his business versus letting the patrons of McDonalds finish their business.  Every time I would grab Andrew, he would scream, "STOP!  LET GO!  I NEED TO POOP!"  So I figured Andrew's grimacing was better than his screaming; after all, we all remembered the Grimace!

Finally, Andrew pooped.  I almost expected applause from the restaurant, but there was none.  But it is times like these when you realize how much a baby/toddler can get away with because of their age.  If you saw Crazy Gaga screaming, "My poopy won't come out!" at your local Denny's, you'd probably call the authorities.  

I'm not too sure what the fine line is between Andrew's behavior and more appropriate public behavior, but like most anything else with child development, your kid will eventually get there.  I'll just have to make sure on our next road trip I spike Andrew's apple juice with Metamucil and flax seed.