We made it to the Statesboro Farmer’s Market on the morning of July 4th.After getting the whole family fed, dressed and ready to go to market, we geared up in the stroller to walk downtown. It is the first farmer’s market we have attended all season despite perfect attendance last year. Yippee. We finally made it!
The first person we saw darted over to tell us that Beatrice didn’t have on any panties. “She Sharon Stoned me,” she said. Nice. Real nice – especially since I didn’t bring the diaper bag. Oh my goodness. I mean, can you believe this? I was embarrassed but have developed a thick skin to such awkward situations. Brian, who is more delicate, was mortified. I couldn’t help but laugh through the uncomfort while smiling at the stereotypical potty training hang up. She must have discarded her pull ups at home. I promise I put one on her with Brian as my witness.
This really was funny. I covered my head with shame. And, just laughed.
The good news is that luck was on our side that day. There just happened to be a garage sale…right there out of a downtown home. What are the chances of such timeliness? It was perfect. We discreetly asked to purchase some undies. They didn’t have any for sale but found some to give to us. THANK THA LORD. The garage sellers wouldn’t let us pay for the underwear, which were slightly larger than Beatrice’s size, so we bought a lemonade and popcorn from the Two Cousins Lemonade Stand located on the premises to reciprocate the generosity.
Little did we know the humor was only starting. Later during the outing, Beatrice went to play with a dog. As she walked over, the loose fitting panties dropped down to her ankles. Bear bottomed, she chasedthe animal as Brian raced after her. The panties were slipping down her like a painter coming down a ladder. The right side dropped. Then, the left side. Then, the right. And, the left until the pink polka dotted panties made it to the bottem where they were tripping her. Her heiney was in clear view. Brian scooped her up. Put her in the stroller. And, turned to me with a glare. “Let’s go home NOW,” he said with an evil rattle and big grin.
So, we left all the good veggies and the fresh grilled chicken behind. We pushed the stroller home with one of Mrs. Murray’s pound cakes and small bag of peaches, laughing all the way.