With an eight-month-old (as I suspect is the case with all the ages between newborn and 35), a mother has to work around their child’s routine. I had several errands to run but respectfully gave Jack a nap before we left. Everything was in my favor including Jack napping early and pooping before we left the house (only mothers of young children can appreciate how nice that is).
Our first stop was to visit my sister-in-law (or otherwise “Auntie Alexis”) to see her yard sale. Business wasn’t quite booming at that time, but we did get to talk about weaning our little rascals and other points of conversation which are really only interesting to mothers who spend 65% of their day with a child attached to their body.
After that, I went to the library. I really should know better, but I always think I will read several books in three weeks. Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.
The most exciting part of the day was meeting my Dad to go to an auction. Ned and I love going to auctions. There’s just something about standing (because we don’t actually own lawn chairs and never remember to bring them anyway) surrounded by people who are over 65 looking at someone else’s junk. Auctions are usually the result of someone passing and there’s always something intriguing about seeing the items that the individual used to sustain their life: A bed, a lawn mower, an antique crock, a matching set of ceramic owls.
This would be Jack’s fourth auction (our poor boy will grow up thinking it’s a normal pastime for children who aren’t Amish). Although he won’t remember this auction when he’s older, it’s my most memorable to date.
It was about 90 degrees outside so I had Jack stripped down to a onesie and a diaper and hoped that he wouldn’t become dehydrated while I bid on extension cords and old U.S.Army jackets. The real prize was a lawn-cart which Ned had spotted online one lonely day at his coal covered cubicle. I really wanted to get that lawn cart for him. I kind of imagined rolling it into the yard for him and seeing him beam with boy-like joy. The cart would be glowing like a pirate’s box of treasure and Ned would be inclined to love me until the day we both die.
My Dad looked at me and said: “You’re going to want to get under the tent, there’s a storm coming.” There really wasn’t room under the tent because my Dad and I didn’t get there early enough and plus I had Jack in a giant stroller. I decided to get Jack out and hold him as the sky began to darken and the beautiful maple trees that lined the property began to sway. Fortunately, they were also auctioning off the real estate so when I heard the thunder begin to roll, I had a place to escape with my baby.
Jack and I stood in the kitchen with the woman in charge of handing out your number. The rain began falling and people came in the house to cash out. One couple came in and the man said, “This is where I used to have pancakes when I was a child.”
The woman behind the table told me that the couple that lived in the house used to take in foster children. They were also somehow involved in the military.
By the time the hail came, there were quite a few people gathered in that little kitchen and scattered in the little house. My Dad was still valiantly standing under the tent, partially because there weren’t a lot of other options for him. I kicked myself for not bringing in my purse and putting the stroller in a safe place.
I held Jack and wondered if we would be stuck in that house all night. I imagined the whole group of people in the basement waiting out a tornado and getting to know each other more intimately than we ever intended. I also thought guiltily of my dog that was outside in the rain. Thankfully, I had been able to feed and change Jack before all these people came inside.
And then…I felt Jack’s tummy tighten.
Oh no.
It tightened again.
Oh no, I thought, he only ate pears last night.
And then I felt a little rumble.
I waited too long to check (like thirty seconds or so). I think maybe I was in denial. But then I looked – and by golly, it was everywhere. There was even poop on the carpeted kitchen floor. I tried to clean it up as discreetly as possible and then I wrapped Jack in my shirt and headed to the bathroom.
One person we passed said, “Uh-oh.”
Thankfully I had an undershirt on, so I stripped off my first shirt and put it on the bathroom floor to keep any more orange goo from escaping in this dead stranger’s house. Yes, I placed my baby on a dirty bathroom floor. I didn’t have a lot of options -- it was still pouring outside. Jack giggled and giggled. Oh what fun.
After cleaning him up and wrapping up the evidence, I went back out to see if there was any chance of leaving. It was still pouring and Jack started to fuss so I decided to hide in the living room and feed Jack again. Once we got settled in and Jack was happily eating – that little house lost electricity. Perfect.
Shortly after that my Dad came in to check on us. I couldn’t really convey my embarrassment at the whole situation, but I think he understood. We soon left because the rain let up and the auction was postponed. The highlight was Jack falling asleep on my shoulder – something that hasn’t happened for months.
We didn’t end up getting that lawn cart, but I’m sort of banking on Ned loving me until I die (and beyond) anyway. And, now I’m wondering what kind of adventure the next auction will be. My Mom always says it isn’t the days that go off without a hitch that we remember and talk about. It’s the ones where everything goes unexpectedly that are the true adventures.
