Is Your Refrigerator Running?

Today we went to visit my mom's family for our fifth Chrismas celebration in 72 hours. My parents were following us and we had to stop for gas, right about the time BigM announced she had to potty. This could not have worked out any better (unless we had remembered to ask her to potty before we left...)

DM started pumping while BigM and I ran in to the convenience store. (Which was incorrectly named, seeing as we stood in line for the potty for at least 12 hours. Okay, it was more like 12 minutes, but when you have a squirmy child who has to tee-tee, a DM who is waiting in the car and a set of grandparents who didn't need to stop but don't have a Garmin, it felt like f-o-r-e-v-e-r.)

Finally we were on the road again. About 25 minutes later, she announces, again, that she has to potty.

Me: Do you really have to potty or do you just want to get out of the car?
BigM: I really have to potty. But I do want to get out of the car.
Me: Can you hold it?
BigM: No.
Me: Do you have to poop or something? You just went tee-tee.
BigM: Yes, mommy, I have to poop. I can't hold it, I have to go nooooow.
Me: Okay, can you hold it for just a little bit?
BigM: No.
Me: [aside to DM] The last time I made her hold it in the car we were on the way to the beach and she pooped in her pants. [To BigM] Are you suuuuure you can't hold it?
BigM: Maybe I can hold it for a minute.
DM: Okay, maybe you can hold it for 20 mins until we get off at our exit?
BigM: I can try.

For the next 2o mins, we counted to 100 a few times, sprinkled intermittenly by a reminder from BigM that she did, indeed, have to go potty.

We finally reached our exit and I grabbed my cell phone to call my mom to let her know we'd be stopping, yet again. I dialed (and I also have to tell you now that someone played a really mean joke on me. The landlines in the town where I grew up all start with the numbers #$# and the cell phones start with $#$: like I'd really tell you what they are. So all the AT&T cell phones in the town where we live also start with #$#- so I have to be reaaaaaaaally careful that I dial the right number.) After more rings than I expected, my mom finally picked up and said very groggily, "Hey."

I immediately launch into my explanation- "Hey, it's me. Again. We're going to have to stop again because BigM has to poop."

Whaaa?

"BigM has to poop."

Huh?

[My mom must have really been asleep! She's not making any sense.] Click.

"DM, I think my mom was asleep, because she didn't really talk and she just hung up on me."

That's when I looked down at the phone and realized I had dialed the wrong number. So to you, Lady I Rudely Woke Up With an Accidental Crank Call to Tell You My Child Needed to Use the Bathroom, I apologize.

And I hope my mom or I don't run into you at the grocery store.