We drove to Idaho to look at houses in person- possible rentals. We drove to Nampa from Boise and took the kids to eat a late lunch at the restaurant around the corner from the house. This was not my first rodeo, so we had each of them use the restroom the millisecond before leaving.
We arrived at the house and chatted it up with the property manager. We scoped out the rooms and sent the kids to check out the backyard. Before he even got outside, Sam (5) began the dance. The I-really-gotta-go dance. I looked expectantly toward the landlady. She looked at me with concern. "I am so sorry. I called and asked them to turn on the water, but they didn't make it out here. I am fine if he wants to use the bathroom anyway, but he won't be able to flush."
I replied with, "Oh. That's OK. He JUST went, at the restaurant, but he has the bladder of a grandfather."
I figured we would scoot out of there and get to a restroom before it became an issue, but Izzy (13) came in while The Man and the landlady were deep in conversation. She whispered, "Mamma. Sam really has to go."
I weighed my options and whispered in Izzy's ear, "Bring him to the backyard and have him pee in the grass. Just tell him to keep it a secret." I jumped back into the adult conversation like no monkey business was afoot.
About five minutes passed and Isabelle came back into the house to stand right at my side. I gave her the squinty eyed cahoots look and mouthed, "Well? Did he pee?"She looked at me solemnly and whispered, "Yes. He peed. And he pooped."
My head fell. I am pretty sure I made a choking snorting sound. The adult conversation wrapped up, and we promised to call later that day with our decision. We loaded up in the car, and The Man chimed, "Well? What do you guys think?"
I replied with zero sarcasm,
"We have to take it. Sam pooped in the backyard."
His face was award winning.
