Monday, May 25, 2009

We'll NEVER KNOW

I was sitting on the floor of the state capitol building today feeding Wesley his lunch of pears and oatmeal when a pair of impeccably shined wingtips appeared behind Wes, who was sitting on the floor facing me. I looked up at a smiling man wearing an expensive suit and a blue tie like Obama. "Why don't you come in here and sit down?" he asked, gesturing at the door he had just emerged from. "Oh, I'm alright, thanks. My husband is over there watching the concert" I replied, indicating the Memorial Day tribute going on nearby. He told me to have a nice day and then walked towards the elevators surrounded by a group of professionally dressed twenty-somethings bearing binders and bags and huge sheaves of paper.

Two of the women in the group I recognized from an earlier visit to the bathroom where they waited patiently as I stood in the stall with the door open wearing my mom-shorts and mom-shirt and cheered Charlie.

"If you have to poop I need you to go right now. You cannot go in your undies. Do you have to poop? You don't need any more toilet paper. No. No. No. It's a trash can. DON'T TOUCH IT. It's a trash can. No. No more toilet paper. Stop touching that. DON'TPUTYOURHANDSINYOURMOUTH. It's a trash can. Are you done? Are you done? Are you done? OK! Great job! Let's put your undies back on! Great job! You went TINKLE! What a big boy!!"

They were dressed beautifully. And I know you want me to say "I wouldn't have traded places with them for a second" but I have to say, at that particular frazzled, unshowered moment there sweating in the bathroom of the state capitol wearing dirty khaki shorts and a faded polo shirt talking potty with a reluctant two-year-old? I would have traded places with them for a few hours let alone a second. Not traded lives, of course, I do love the little rugrats, but I'm not going to lie to you; a few hours in a quiet, air-conditioned building, with only my own bathroom needs to attend to sounds like a week in Cabo.

A few minutes after the encounter with the man in the suit Ryan and Charlie came out to find us so we could go home. It was only then that I stood up and looked at the door.

It was marked "Governor's Business Office."

So now I need to know, WHO was the man in the suit? (It wasn't the governor or the lieutenant governor, that much I can tell from the internet). And WHY WHY WHY did I not go in that office? Our graduation speaker, told us when a door opens, you walk through it. And a DOOR WAS LITERALLY OPENED right in front of me and I just sat there. I just know there was someone in there just a-waiting to hire me and OH what a great story THAT would have made. But instead I came home and fell asleep on the couch watching The Doctors.

My glamorous life as a public servant was over before it began.

3 comments:

Sarah said...

LOL @ the open door analogy. I feel like our elected officials are not that friendly. Although Ben did sit next to our governor on a plane, and he took a bajillion pictures of the poor guy, who was a good sport about it. But still, all I have gotten when feeding J at the capitol is a bunch of dirty looks.

Kyla said...

Haha! I've met some pretty friendly people around the capitol!

apathy lounge said...

Go back tomorrow. There will be a group of 5th graders there. Unruly and--some--ill dressed. They're from our school. If the Bob Bullock museum explodes...well...you'll know why.