Last week I picked Rachel up at school. The weather was lovely. While I was waiting for her I made plans with a friend of mine to meet at a park for lunch. The problem was I hadn’t packed a lunch. We made a detour for the Bagel shop and on the way out of the shop we went to the bathroom. Hannah was with us.

It was a one room restroom with the sink in the same room as the toilet. Hannah didn’t go potty but touched enough questionable–deeply questionable–surfaces that we had to give her hands a thorough cleaning. This is always a pain because she soaps up rinses off and then wants to soap up again. It takes a while to end the madness. There is always the risk that Hannah will get wet in this process, which would pretty much ruin our plans. Hannah would want her clothes off. We would have no extra clothes. You can imagine the rest.

So, on this day Hannah soaped up a number of times before I convinced her to start drying off her hands with the paper towel. Very seriously, she dried her hands and threw the paper towel away.

Then before I could do anything about it, she grabbed another paper towel and started wiping the filthy floor. Finally, to top it off she flushed the toilet again.

I considered my options, and then grimaced as I grabbed her and made my way out of the door.

Sometimes, when you know you can’t win, you just have to end the madness and cut your losses.

You would have washed her hands again, wouldn’t you?

Sigh.

I’m changing the subject now. The park was fun.