Friday, October 10, 2014

Boston Creme Birth Control

Last week I was chatting with my Seattle Senorita. She was going to be back in Boston for a couple of weeks and had suggested a few weeks back that I travel there for my birthday. I didn't think much of it until mid last week and it went from a joking mention to full on purchasing my tickets in about 20 minutes. I think these last minute whimsy trips always end up the best. I'm not even sure what I packed. But it didn't even matter - I wasn't there for Boston, I was there for my soul sisters. I would be lost without them. And laugh not nearly as much.

And to think, we all met because of Craig's List. I put out a "looking for roommate" ad years ago. She was the first to respond. She flew down to meet me and apartment shop. She never moved but we never stopped talking. And then she became convinced that me and her other friend in Seattle would get along. We were friends on Facebook for a year before we met in person last summer. And I love her. I love them both. Thanks social media. And while the weekend we had together was just about the best girls weekend I've ever had (and perfectly non-overt birthday celebration) it's not the moment that really stuck out worth sharing from that weekend. That moment came Monday morning when I was having brunch with my old roommate. You know, the 40ish nanny, D, that I used to live with and we wouldn't have been friends if weren't roommates but she's sweet and I love her, that one.

I meet her downtown. I meet the babe she nannies for who is two by now and happily snacking on a whole box of popcorn she had bought him as 'sorry you got your flu shot this morning' treat. After I said 'hi' to the babe who really only cared about the popcorn at this point, she immediately started lamenting that the mom handed him off without having packed the stroller and so she had no diapers. Mayday! I think and suggest she go buy some. She declines and says she doesn't want to pay for them and he should be okay for four hours. I try to encourage her again, but she begins to discuss lunch and decides she wants to go to the Omni hotel for lunch at Parker's (the hotel's restaurant) because they invented the Boston creme pie. Fine with me. So let's set the scene. Actually, let me show you the scene:


So there it is. Now, remember it's noonish on a Monday, in downtown Boston so there are lots of suits having a quiet professional meal at this fine dining establishment. The kid is mostly quiet through the meal, and just as the nanny ordered her Boston creme pie, the babe leans into the table, red-faced. Oh god, he's pooping! "Are you pooping," D asks him as she pulls him closer to her after I emit some sort of this-is-bad noise.

Just then, it begins. "Change diaper," the little boy says.

As a response, D pulls his chair a bit closer to her to acknowledge his request while she said, "You have to wait."

That didn't go over well. And it must have been exceptionally flu-shot induced awful because the kid wouldn't even sit back in his high chair, opting to lean forward on the table to avoid whatever had exited him over a nice meal and again announced, notably louder, "Poop! Change diaper!"

"You have to wait..." she said.

And then, in the middle of the restaurant full of well-dressed proper-ass people and wood walls and ambiance, he began to scream on repeat: "POOP! CHANGE DIAPER. CHANGE DIAPER. CHANGE DIAPER. POOOOOOOOP! CHANGE DIAPERRRRR."

Oh my god, all the proper-ass people are looking at us...

As his voice escalated, I insisted she go out and get him a diaper and change him. While she was hesitate to leave me alone for 20 minutes, I didn't care if it took four hours, she needed to get him to stop yelling "poop change diaper". I am rarely embarrassed but even that one got me. She left and I texted my soul sisters what happened and added "this is my life?!" - these occasions, I'm pretty sure, are why I don't have kids yet. About 35 minutes later, she returned with a happy toddler, at which time we all shared the Boston creme pie, which, to be honest, wasn't anything to write home about - in case you were wondering.