Ice Ice Baby

Hope occasionally says “poo poo” when she means “pee pee” and “pee pee” when she means “poo poo.” We were at the mall a couple weekends ago and I really had to go potty. (I’ve lost all couth by now – I don’t say, ‘I need to use the restroom.’ I say, ‘gotta go potty.’) We went into a crowded bathroom, and crammed into a stall. Hope is in the habit of cheering at potty success. We cheer for her when she goes, and we cheer for Rhema when she goes. So it only follows that she cheers when I go. Only on this day in the public restroom she got her bathroom action words mixed up as she loudly proclaimed,
“Yaaayyy Mommy. You go poo poo on the potty!!”

*******
Rhema LOVES ice. We got in the habit of not keeping ice in the freezer when we lived in Germany, and back at home, the habit has continued. So when Rhema sees ice, she’s just gotta have it. (Hhhhmmm, that’s a good idea for a reinforcer!)

Back to the mall (that same day). We decided to brave the Food Court. In the past, this has been a hairy undertaking. Rhema still has that innocence about her that believes ‘What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.’ So everybody’s meal at the food court (or a hospital waiting room) is subject to a sampling by Rhema – and the girl is fast.

But we were feeling courageous this day. We got our food, sat down and I was quite pleased that both girls stayed seated while we ate. The only hiccup was that I forgot about Rhema’s ice obsession and had purchased a sweet tea with ice in it from McDonalds. But as soon as I remembered, I hid my drink in Hope’s diaper bag. So things were going great: Hope wasn’t breaking out in hives from allergies, and we had found gluten-free food that they both could eat.

I was feeling quite confident and relaxed, when a man sat down at the table next to us, right next to Rhema. I saw Rhema’s eyes get big as she spotted the man’s giant Dr. Pepper. Like a bird dog honing in on its prey, Rhema pounced on the man’s drink in one quick move. By the time I got to her, she already had the lid off. But I managed to grab her hand before she plunged it into the startled man’s drink.

Uttering a quick apology, I tried to re-direct her. I grabbed my hidden sweet tea with the intention of giving her my ice. She lunged for my cup causing me to drop it. Sweet tea and ice splattered to the floor. Rhema, not the least bit bothered by the spill dove under the table and began eating ice off the floor. I looked over at Brandon who had remained seated next to Hope the whole time, eyes closed praying for peace or divine intervention…

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7 thoughts on “Ice Ice Baby

  1. So funny! My two year old daughter cheers for me, too, when we are in the bathroom together, whether in public or at home. So funny! 🙂
    I’m just imagining my family in the food court in your family’s situation and can so see that happening! My kids are constantly eating whatever they find on the ground if I can’t intervene(?) fast enough. 🙂
    Thanks for the laugh. I needed it today!

  2. Pingback: Autism Goes Out to Dinner - Part 2 « Autism In a Word

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