Goobs announced to me that he had to pee. As luck would have it, we were parked right next to a bank of porta-potties. Goobs went to the first one in the row, inspected it and promptly deemed it "icky." He then went to check every porta-potty in the row, saying the same thing. He finally settled on the last one, but not without complaining about that one too. I could hear him getting settled in. I breathed a long sigh of relief...this wouldn't take long. Just at that moment, the city siren went off. It was 1:00. Heck, I didn't know why it went off, but it had something to do with the festival. This bad boy was was not just a loud one, but a screamer!!! I could vaguely hear Goobs in the porta-potty screaming. I could tell he was disoriented and afraid. I reassured him by yelling that there was a firetruck outside and that was it's siren. Goobs loves firetrucks, so I thought that was a fitting solution. Bad move Daddy. Goobs quickly figured out how to unlock the porta-potty's door and ran out. His shorts were down to his ankles. He burst out into the parking lot hobbling, looking for a firetruck. Daddy had to chase him down to pull up those shorts. The boy didn't care a lick about exposing himself. He was on a mission to find that firetruck. He was seriously disappointed about not finding it. It was a chore just to strap him into his car seat. That boy just wanted to see that firetruck.
Oh well...it was interesting. There's more to tell about the day, but that will be in the next post.
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