Flushed away

We were at a restaurant recently when Will decided that he is old enough to go to the bathroom by himself.

He stopped agreeing to accompany me to the ladies room quite awhile ago. That rite of passage has meant many a long wait for me outside the mens room ... usually made more frustrating by the fact that I see grown men walking out, laughing uncontrollably.

So, when Will decided he could go by himself -- I didn't have to wait outside -- I was all over that one.

Off he went.

He was gone for about .5 seconds when he came back and said, "Which one is it again?"

Scott: "The one that says M-E-N."

Off he went.

And I knew, I just knew there would be an issue.

Off I went.

There he was, going back and forth between the two doors. He looked at me, pointed to both doors, and said, "Mommy! M-E-N!"

It's how his brain works: M-E-N is in the word "men" AND the word "women."

I pointed him in the right direction and he took off again, my big little m-a-n.

Back at our table, Scott and I were enjoying a few quiet moments with Charlie when a stranger came over to me.

"Is your name Jana?"

"Yes."

"Your little boy is looking for you."

Oh, God.

I rounded the corner and there he was, pants around his ankles outside the men's room.

"Mommy! I don't know how to flush this thing!"

Well, I've now added "can flush a urinal" to my list of talents. I think I'll put it in between "can get baby poop out of the carpet" and "can reasonably function on three hours of sleep."