My tiny hero!

*Warning - This is story about using a public washroom*


The whole reason for me blogging tonight is because I wanted to share a story with all of you.

The boy is afraid of auto-flushing toilets.   Completely terrified.

Every time we visit a public washroom, he makes a careful inspection of the flush handle - if it meets his psychological needs, he will declare "this toilet not flush by itself!" and proceed to do his business. 

If he spies a tiny red light mounted on the tell-tale black oval, he'll whip down his pants, squeeze out exactly one drop then beat a hasty retreat to the farthest corner of the stall whilst loudly stating that he's done. 

This afternoon while Laur was otherwise engaged renting a vehicle at Hertz, His Four Year Oldness loudly declared, "I have go pee!"  Dutifully, we toddled off to the bathroom to take care of business.

But soft, what light through yonder electronic eye breaks? It is the auto-flush and the boy is a-feared.  Covering the electronic eye with my hand, the boy released an epic flow.  Dooder had to pee!  He quickly hopped off and retreated to the farthest corner of the stall, pants around his knees, hands clasped over his ears to dull the toilet's roar.

However, I also had to pee.  As I'm sitting down, the toilet (suddenly bidet) flushes.

The boy stares at me, his eyes are as wide a saucers - incredulous.  He runs over and holds me in a tiny-boy death grip. 

"I got you", he says. "I got you".

And as the roar fades, he leans in closer and whispers in my ear, "It's ok, I got you."

His fear, his compassion, his action - in that brief moment, in the weirdest of all public spaces, I was so proud of him!

And if I hadn't been sitting in the women's public pee-condo at Stanfield International Airport, I probably would have cried.