The Bleacher Incident

So, the bleacher incident (see last post) must be written for posterity.

We did our morning Mayor's Walk and ended at the finish line for the actual marathon. We then decided it would be fun to watch the first runners finish, so we played at the park and stuck around. Then, we got caught up in the drama and excitement of the morning and ended up staying on the bleachers for about two hours. We made a snack trip and a potty trip, but other than that, we were people watching and chatting with new marathon friends. At the 4:30 mark, we were eagerly anticipating Dad's arrival when Ben said, "I need to go to the bathroom."

Now, I had made that trip already and it was a 20 minute hike around the finish line, the runner's zone, through the park, and back. "If we leave now, Benny, we'll miss Grandpa finish his race."

"But I need to go."

"Here's my iPod. That will help you forget," I responded. (Because I am a parenting champion).

Ten minutes later, "I really need to go," he said with urgency that cannot be denied.

Now, I had a dilemma on my hands. I love my kids. Really, I do. But I had been sitting on those bleachers for two hours to watch my dad and cheer him on at the finish. I had our sweet camera for some great zoomed in shots. I was not going to miss this. So I did what any self-respecting parent would do. "Here. Pee in this bottle."

Ben was not interested in this option, "No."

Of course I responded in a totally loving manner, "you can either pee in the bottle, hold it, or wet your pants. I'm not missing Grandpa's finish."

"Fine. I'll pee in the bottle."

So, my mom and I got out our "Go Grandpa" posters and jackets to make a shield around little soon-to-be-naked Ben. I was ready to help him with the delicate aiming procedure. He, however, took the matter into his own hands and while we weren't looking, he set the bottle on the bleachers, dropped his drawers, and proceeded to try and pee into a small-opening water bottle from 2.5 feet in the air. It was running all over the bleachers and dripping down the sides. He had this look on his face like, "I told you guys this was a dumb idea. Look at the mess it's making."

We could do nothing but try to cover him up and pull his pants up the minute he was done. I literally got him snapped up when mom yelled, "Here he comes!" So I whipped out the camera, avoided stepping in the puddle, and got my pictures. We were laughing and cheering all at the same time. When he'd run by, we poured an entire water bottle over the mess and quickly made our way off the bleachers.

We're still not sure how many people saw the event or if there is some sweet little St. George family scandalized by the spectacle they witnessed on the bleachers. But, we didn't miss Dad, I got my pictures, and Ben seems to have come out of the situation unscathed.

26.2

This is my amazing dad just after his first marathon a few weekends ago in St. George. He is amazing! . . . and then some. At first he said this was his first and his last, but he has softened a bit now that he can again walk without pain :)

Grandpa and my boys

crossing the finish line

Near the end--at first we didn't know what the National Guard people were there for, until runners started dropping and they had to catch them.

Dad liked this photo, "Hey. It looks like I'm still running."

"You were still running."

"It didn't feel like it."
Obviously these are in reverse order. This was right after an unfortunate bleacher incident (another post).
This was our morning contribution to the race, our 2.2 mile "Mayor's Walk." Todd actually ran the whole thing and was mighty proud of his accomplishment.

Thanks for the fun weekend, Mom and Dad. Let's do it again next year. Who can we sucker into running so we can come watch and feel like part of the festivities? Chris? Scott? Julie? Ryan? Tal?