Thursday afternoon, B had to work, so I was stuck dragging the whole crew along to Ella’s climbing practice. I bribed them with dinner from P. Terry’s if they behaved, and it turns out, my kids will do just about anything for P. Terry’s.
When we finished dinner, the little three and I went back to the gym to hang out while Ella finished climbing. I had fun chit-chatting with some of the other parents. Things were good.
Then Campbell announced that he needed to go to the bathroom. For the first time ever, I told him he could go in the men’s room all by himself. After a few minutes, I noticed he hadn’t come back, so I sent Lily to investigate.
She came back immediately and told me she could hear Campbell crying in the bathroom. My heart sank. All I could think was that the first time I let him go to the bathroom by himself, a child molester walked in.
One of the dads volunteered to go in after Campbell, but when they didn’t come right back out, I barged in to investigate.
I found Campbell standing at the sink, shirt tucked into his backwards underpants, which were pulled up to his ribs, sobbing hysterically while the poor dad tried to wipe off all the tears.
Me: Campbell, what happened????
Campbell: I locked myself in the locker.
Me: (trying not to laugh) But why would you do that?
Campbell: I wanted to see if I could fit. And I did. But I couldn’t get out.
Other dad: I couldn’t tell which locker the crying was coming from so I had to open all of them to find him.
When I called B to tell him about the incident, he roared and said, “That is the perfect illustration of the difference between boys and girls. A girl might climb in a locker, but she’s not going to lock herself in.”
At bedtime I asked Campbell what he’d learned that afternoon. I was pleased that his answer was, “Not to lock myself in lockers.”
But that doesn’t mean I’m betting he won’t ever do it again.