Full Hands

The scene: Parking lot outside my suburban gym.
The players: My three year old son, really into peeing outside (thanks to my husband's ideas about potty training); me, fresh from a workout (free childcare and unlimited shower time, yay!); and my two year old son, really into running across parking lots, particularly when screamed at not to.
Oh, and the "older" gym goer, exiting her car and not in the least inclined to be helpful.
The time: half way through a very long day

Three Year Old: Mommy, I have to pee.
Me: Right now?
Three Year Old: Yes. On this tree. (Begins disrobing).
Me: (Pleading) Why don't we go inside where the potty is?
Three Year Old: (Pants and Thomas the Tank Engine underwear around ankles) No, here. On this tree. Like Daddy.
Me: But honey. We pee inside.

Sensing weakness, the Two Year Old makes a break for it, heading for the seemingly unlimited frontier of the parking lot. Thankfully, he is fully clothed.

Me: (Screams at Two Year Old while balancing peeing, half naked Three Year Old).
Two Year Old: (Smiles and laughs maniacally).
Three Year Old: Look Mommy. Pee. Some is on my shoe.

Just then a Lexus SUV rounds the corner, narrowly missing the Two Year Old. An older woman (well past the toddler years) parks and exits the vehicle, all benevolent smiles and grandmotherly nostalgia.

Three Year Old: Mommy! Where are you going?
Me: (Sprinting after Two Year Old, completely abandoning Three Year Old who is naked from the waist down) Be right back, honey! (Screams again at Two Year Old).

The Three Year Old begins chase, pants and underwear still ankle high. He trips. Falls. Cries. The Two Year Old, now across the street, is in stitches.

Me: (Obscenity).

Lexus Woman: (Striding leisurely and yet full of purpose toward gym) You've got your hands full!

Me: Yes. Thank you. Enjoy your Zumba Class.

This message brought to you by the "It goes by so fast" cliche.