We have nothing in the fridge but half a rotisserie chicken, some eggnog, and a pound cake, so I called Ryan and told him to fend for himself while I loaded up the family and went to our church's Wednesday night supper. Nine bucks for Charlie, Wes, and me to eat a wholesome meal WITH dessert and all the lemonade and iced tea we can drink. I don't know why we don't go every week.
We made our way into the fellowship hall from the minivan, James in his carrier on one arm, the other hand holding Charlie's hand, Charlie holding Wes's hand. I plunked down our cash and we headed to the serving line. I had really hoped this would make a better blog post, actually. The boys were delightful in line, answering me quickly and clearly when I asked them if they'd rather have a hamburger or hot dog. They followed me like little puppies to a table. They sat patiently in their chairs when I went to go get our drinks. It was very unexpected, and welcome!
Wes chose to start with dessert, but managed to eat half his hot dog and most of his fries. Charlie practically licked his plate clean then held it up to show me and asked politely if he could eat his dessert. They were polite and charming and very, very cute. I was enjoying it immensely, sure, but also waiting for the bottom to fall out as it sometimes does in the late evening when I have the gall to leave the house. It never did.
When the boys were done eating they ran off to play with the other kids while I passed James around to my friends. A few minutes later Charlie came to ask me to take him to the potty. I encouraged him to go by himself and told him I'd watch him all the way to the door and asked him to come tell me when he was done. I watched him walk across the fellowship hall, about the size of a regulation basketball court, and go into the men's room then kept one eye on the door, waiting for him to come out.
Several minutes later I heard indistinct yelling coming from inside the men's room all the way across the large fellowship hall, past all the families having dinner. It sounded like he was calling me. Afraid that Charlie was about to come waddling out of the men's room with his pants around his ankles I handed James off to a friend, made a mental note of Wes's location (fooling around with the water fountain, as always), then started running. The yelling continued. People were stopping with their forks in mid-air, craning their heads around to find the source of the noise. The man selling tickets, who was sitting near the door to the bathroom was cracking up.
The sound got louder and louder, I started running faster, starting to get a little bit worried about what I would find in the bathroom. Overflowing toilet maybe? Or my favorite, the floating toilet paper roll? When I reached the door I turned the handle and burst in, without thinking of who might be in there other than Charlie.
Charlie was standing in the middle of the room, jazz hands outstretched.
"Hi Mama! Did you hear my 'big finish'?" He grinned, then handed me a wet paper towel and skipped past me out the door to resume playing.
He'd been singing. Probably something from the Broadway Kids CD we'd listened to in the car.
I assembled the children and we walked hand in hand back to the car. The big boys laughed hysterically at James's pitiful cries of hunger and we all sang along with the Broadway Kids.