Toodle-Loo

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“Rock off?” I asked my wife.

The waves had been gently rolling in around Miss’s ankles when she’d suddenly froze, her body rigid.

“Toily!” she’d bellowed “Toily! Toily! Toily!”

We’ve all been there. Kids inevitably need to go the moment you’re lined up at a supermarket checkout or the bride is walking down the aisle or the waitress is bringing dinner to the table.

We’d just arrived at Toogoom, a short drive north of Hervey Bay, to check out a place for a week’s holiday next year. We weren’t in surf, as such, more on a sand bank which stretched out into the blue ocean but which was protected by Fraser Island. If we wanted we could walk out from the beach for hundreds of meters in ankle deep water.

I looked at Tracey. Usually one of us would race off to the nearest loos while the other stayed behind with the other kids, but the nearest loo was a two minute car ride away and it was going to take longer than that to get to the car itself.

Miss3’s bladder wasn’t going to make it.

“It’s not like we’re in a pool,” said Tracey. “The water will flush it away.”

All we had to do was carry her away from where the rest of the kids were playing.

Tracey always goes rock so I figured I had this in the bag. She went scissors.

“Best two out of three?” I suggested. We didn’t need a third round.

“Just don’t stand too close and try get her to piddle when the water is receding,” Tracey grinned at me. That smile would be tested in about thirty seconds.

I put my arms out and Miss3 happily jumped into them. So far I’d managed to stay dry from my knees up but she was wet, naturally, and now so was I down one side.

I walked her maybe twenty meters from my family and set her back down.

“Just wee here,” I told her.

“I alweady wee,” she said.

“Where?”

She pointed to Tracey and the kids. “Over dere.”

I guess maybe next time there’s a toily emergency we shouldn’t take up so much time playing games.

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