OK, so I don't normally talk about this...

This is the type of story I rarely share....

Tonight, Frank and I went to Chili's with Katherine. We had the most wonderful dinner. Katherine was an angel! We enjoyed a great visit.

Then...well, just read on.....

At the end of dinner, I unlock Katherine from her booster chair and put her in my lap. I realize that she is wet. Um...uh oh. My hand is wet. hmm. I put my hand near my nose. GROSS!

I realize that Katherine has pooped. Pooped in the sense that she had defied GRAVITY and it had shot out one side of her denim capris. It is all over the place. A pool of it was even in her booster.

I look down and realize that it is on her and on me. It is all over my shirt, my pants, my arms...it is EVERY WHERE!! So, I try to quietly tell Frank what the heck is going on. He tries to descreetly clean her, the booster chair and me all at the same time.

I'm just trying to figure out how NOT to gag. This stuff is toxic and obviously goes against science. I mean, what has this child eaten? Then, we run out of wipes. Well okay then. This is going from bad to worse.

I'm thinking...let's just get out of here. Cause, um....GROSS!

As we are just about to do so, a women who looked about 80 approaches us. She just gushes on and on about how adorable our child is. "Most babies make such a fuss at dinner, but not her, she even waved at me!" I'm thinking, "Lady...you have no idea!" Here I am, thanking Grandma Chili's for her sweet comments while trying to strategically hide all of this poop that is on me, her and her booster seat. The irony of the situation is bringing me to tears from laughter.

We finally head out. I avoid any eye contact with Chili's Personnel. Our table is nasty at this point and I don't want to anyone to point.

We won't go back to that Chili's for a while. I'm sure glad we paid that Charity Dollar to color that Chili's sponsored St. Jude's Chili Pepper....that counts for something, right?