A few weeks ago, Matt and I were out of town for a dear friend's wedding in St. Augustine. While we were having the time of our lives, our precious Parker was in good hands with both sets of grandparents. Papa (my dad) picked Parker up from the Howell's house early Saturday evening for
It all started off so perfectly. Too perfectly maybe. I called my dad when they arrived to check in. Apparently Parker was eating all of his food and he was about to be let loose in the gigantic play area at McDonalds. All was well and good. We said our goodbyes, and I happily hung up the phone and resumed the wedding festivities. I wish the story ended there.
Here are a few pictures I received from my dad shortly after our phone conversation. Parker was having the time of his life, and it seemed like the perfect activity to get him tired for bedtime.
It was all fun and games until it all turned terribly wrong.
It all started when Papa couldn't find Parker. High anxiety rushed over my father as he called out for Parker, and there was no response. Thoughts like "Omg, I lost my grandson" poured through his head as he yelled and yelled for Parker with no response in return. Could he have really lost him? This place was enclosed, and there was no way out except for the exit door, which was next to my dad. There is no way Parker could have gotten out. But why wasn't he answering to his Papa's request? Hiding I suppose? Yes, he was hiding. But why?
Panicked, my father asked another little boy to please climb to the top of the playhouse and look for Parker. And so the boy did. The boy found Parker, along with the HUGE disgusting mess Parker had made at the top of the slide. The poor stranger boy brought Parker down for Papa, with my son's poop all over him. Yup, that is right, my sweet little completely potty trained 3 year old was indeed hiding because he was taking a big ol' s$*% at the top of the slide. Pee pee and poo-poo EVERYWHERE. All over the slide, all over Parker, and unfortunately all over the sweet little stranger boy that rescued him. Then, there is my poor poor 63 year old father. With nobody there to help assist him in this messy messy situation. Frantically apologizing to the nice mother whose son has some other kid's poop all over him. Oh dear god, what was my father to do? Well the only thing he could do... rush him to the bathroom to clean him off as good as he could before he got the hell out of there. Apparently, when they walked into the bathroom, they cleared it from all people fast. The smell was horrific my father detailed to me the following day. Papa was determined to get out of there fast, so he did the best clean up job possible, and ran out the front door. Only for Parker to screaming "my shoes, my shoes. my shoes are inside!!." Oh no, was Papa really going to have to go back in that place and show his face??? Yep, Parker was freaking out about his dang shoes being left there. My dad had no choice. "Get in and get out" I'm sure he was thinking.
It's a story we can all laugh about now, but I'm pretty sure there is picture of my dad and Parker hung in front of this McDonalds. I'm also pretty sure the health department closed down this playground for a period of time. And I'm definite my dad will NOT be taking Parker back to one of these things until he is at least 7 years old.
Bless my dad. And bless the poor person who had to clean up the "mess".
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