One of my husband's worst fears was realized yesterday.
Kiddo had an accident in public. Over the last 8 months through a combination of pull-ups and vigilance we've kept her accidents (mostly) contained to the house. (There was that once at the playground, and I feel that there may have been another that I'm repressing.*)
But yesterday, as she climbed onto the piano bench to sit with her daddy before choir practice, I heard the tale-tell sound.
Good news: our chapel is old and tired, so while we try to respect it, it has already suffered a lot. Also, it was at the beginning of choir practice, so Daddy had to take point on solving the problem, not me.
Bad news: one of the reasons that the impact on the floor was small is that a lot of the output landed on daddy's church bag. Sigh.
*Ah yes, it's coming back to me now, and there's a reason it's repressed. I'll leave it there.
