(If you don't like talk about bodily functions you best click that little red x)...
Remember after the summer we took that ridiculously long family road trip...
3000 or so miles, dozens of hotels, five children and my honey... driving for hours!
On that trip we had millions of "are-we-there-yets" and thousands of emergency potty stops.
Near the end there we (as in Tim) was getting a little low in the patience fuel levels.
Eli, our kid who you just don't fool around with on the potty or poop hold-age, announced in the badlands of Montana that he had to go potty... "rwealllllllll bad!!!" Which typically means if you don't pullover within 15 seconds he will have an accident. He gives us plenty of warning, that one.
Tim was in no mood to pullover, mainly because we had a napping baby who wakes up it you even think about pulling off the interstate, and also because he was feeling a bit peeved that Eli had insisted twenty mile ago at the gas station that he didn't have to go.
Tim said "No, hold it."
I cringed and thought, "I don't think he is aware of this child's bladder issues, and that when he says he has to go... he means it. We can all thank the Lord he doesn't have to poop!"
That is me... Always looking on the bright side.
One golden minute went by.
An even more emphatic demand for a rest stop was implored.
No was the word.
Then crying... (Yeah, we stink as parents, I can't believe they actually allowed us to adopt children.)
Then with great compassion and empathy, the solution came to Tim in the form of an empty lemonade bottle (only men think like that).
It was passed back.
In short order it was filled... and filled... and filled.
Laughing ensued. (I know, really, we were approved to adopt children...)
It was then my wagering streak came out.
I know this child's bladder better than most... Even more than Tim.
He bet the bottle would be 1/3 full.
I say 1/2 for sure... Maybe more.
The lid was screwed on snugly.
Then it was triumphantly passed up the corridor of the suburban, from hand to hand, over heads and bodies!!!
It was not, 1/4 full... Oh No.
It was not 1/3 full... Never!
It was not, 1/2 full... Nope.
It was not, 3/4 full... Not even!
It was all but about an 1 inch full...
The bottle was a 20 ounce bottle... I am sure he peed (my mom just cringed as she read that) all but about 1 ounce of it!!!
It has to be a world record.
Elias proved a point that day... you never doubt his need and ability to urinate in epic proportions. When he has to go, he really has to go. And when he goes it is done fully!
|Elias took to posing for all pictures like this somewhere in Oregon... A big "Ta-da!!!"|
We also had this little story about Eli and urinating too... Here