We all went out to eat at The Old Spaghetti Factory the other night: the whole family plus my mom. While we were eating, Princess said she needed to go potty so Grandma took her to the bathroom. She came back two minutes later saying that she didn’t have to go after all. About 10 minutes later she said she needed to go again. Not wanting to play her little game, we told her that we wouldn’t take her to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later I looked up and asked, “Where’s Princess?” “I don’t know…” said Hubby. We all looked around and didn’t see her anywhere. A wave of realization came over me, “Oh, maybe she went to the bathroom.” I said. I rushed through the lobby (annoyed at the slow people moseying in front of me) and burst into the bathroom, “Princess?” I shouted, and I heard a little voice in the farthest stall say, “What?”
I breathed a sigh of relief that she was safe, but was furious she had gotten up and gone to the bathroom by herself. Another woman in the bathroom chuckled and told me that Princess had just walked right in, waited her turn for the stall and then went in so matter-of-factly. “Yup, that sounds like her,” I said. I opened the stall door to see if she needed any help and after I helped her she said, “Get out of here, Mom.” OK, I guess I’m not needed here anymore. So I waited for her by the sinks.
When did my little four-year-old turn 12? She is way too independent for her own good. And more importantly, what will she be like when she IS 12?! A mother’s worst nightmares are floating through my brain. Let’s just hope she gets it out of her system before then. Wishful thinking I know, but it’s my only coping mechanism at the moment.