We arrive at the local Ikea with only half an hour before the ball room closes for the evening - and we had promised Garrett he could play in the ball room. We quickly sign him in and rush upstairs to get some shopping done. Not fifteen minutes pass when the entire store learns my presence is required at the ballroom. Of course I am at the furthest point from the ballroom and can't for the life of me figure how to find my way back to the entrance without running the length of the entire store! I arrive to see my son walking around the playroom with his pants hanging around his knees while he tries half-heartedly to hold them up in between sprints across the room. The lady in charge looks at me and says, " That's why we called you."
Apparently, he went to the washroom and as he pulled his pants up the waistband button came undone. Because his pants wouldn't stay up he decided that he didn't need them, or his underwear. He walked out of the bathroom into the playroom commando. The ladies in charge of the playroom are not allowed to touch the children, so they had to coax him back into the bathroom and convince him to put his pants back on - which was no small feat, since he really didn't understand the point of wearing pants that wouldn't stay up!!
I thought they deserved some dakbands.
No comments:
Post a Comment