Yes, I was in the men's bathroom at church today. Yes, I knew it was the men's bathroom. No, I didn't want to be there. I was forced.
Mari and I were washing up and loading the dishwasher after fellowship meal when Toby came to me and announced that his pull-up was poopy. "Toby, go tell Daddy," I ordered, spying Matt across the room talking with some friends. I kept rinsing and loading, but Toby wouldn't move.
"No, I want Mommy," he insisted.
"Well then you're going to have to wait, Toby. Mommy's busy," I answered firmly. That'll teach him to be picky, right? A moment later I glanced down to see Toby looking questioningly at his hand, which was covered in poop.
I seized his wrist and drug him over to Matt. "Matt!" I interrupted, "I need a pull-up and wipes now!" Matt instantly realized the gravity of the situation, grabbed Toby by both wrists and held him up in the air.
Matt's friend, however, was skeptical. "So Toby didn't get into the brownies?" he asked.
"Um, no, that's not brownies," I assured him, grabbing the pull-up and wipes and following my husband. "Matt, where are you going?" I asked, fearing his answer.
"Just come in with me, no one's in here," he snapped back, still swinging Toby by his wrists as he pushed open the door to the men's bathroom.
"No one's in there now, but someone might come in," I said, reluctantly kneeling on the floor and wiping Toby down, "and I don't really feel comfortable with that."
Matt rolled his eyes at me as he washed his hands." Clearly, they'll see what's going on and they won't care," he replied.
"Yeah, after they recover from the shock," I countered. "How comfortable would you feel being in the women's bathroom when a woman walked in?"
"I would feel very comfortable!" he insisted.
"Well, great. Next time you're coming in there with me. Now, Toby's all wiped up and I'm leaving. You can put his pull-up on and wash his hands," I retorted.
"Kathy, you're being ridiculous," Matt called out as I left the restroom.
But another greeting entirely met me on the other side of the door. "Hey! What are you doing in there?!" the pastor called out loud enough for the entire room to hear.
And with all eyes on me, I attempted to acquit myself, "My husband forced me against my will! Toby was covered in poop and Matt made me come in with him." But in case there were still lingering doubts in any one's mind, I have recorded the full story here as record of my innocence. And if any of you ladies ever find Matt in the women's restroom, well, I was just returning the favor.