Being thankful

It was a warning, or a watchout or a "hey" pay attention. Yesterday morning I made French toast. That's what Leila wanted. Then we sat down to eat it together at the kitchen table. Leila decided we should hold hands and pray, so we did, and I thanked God for general things and then asked for Mommy and Baba to feel better as we were both sick. Then silence for a second, then Leila very firmly said, "Thank you for poop and for pee." Well, yes. I'm trying to encourage her to use the potty for one thing, and for another she has some trouble with pooping sometimes, so I want to foster the idea of eliminations being positive, not stinky and yucky. All well and good. The day passed at home and I finally decided it was time to get out, so around 6 Leila and I headed for the store. I really haven't done any Christmas shopping, so I wanted to check out the latest at TJ Maxx. We got there, and Leila got into the shopping cart (she likes riding around in the basket) and we headed over to the kids section. [*Warning: the childless may choose to stop reading here.] She started complaining of pain, and after finding nothing for her in the size 4 and 5s, I begin to smell a stink. We have to traverse the entire store and back to finally find the toilets. I think, it's probably firm, I can empty her diaper and she will be fine. No such luck, and no diapers and wet wipes with me. We march out to the car, where Leila refuses to sit in her car seat. After pleading with her and promising to sing songs all the way home I finally decide to take the diaper I have in the front seat and try to clean her up in the bathroom with just toilet paper. There's no changing table, and the bathroom is pretty filthy, so we somehow manage standing up to clean her up pretty well. Great, I think, I can do some shopping. So, I push Leila around through the shoe section (nothing) and through the housewares (nothing) and then I smell something again. Oh Sh***. We head back out to the car where I have no more diapers. She has to sit in the car seat, but she refuses. I count, it does no good. (Probably because I've never followed up to the counting with anything drastic.) Finally she gets into the seat but holds herself up by stiffening her arms on the side. "drive home," She commands me. We sing, and she is fine. We get home and give her a shower and then I fill up the tub for her and go to do some computer work. The tub is rather full. Then I hear "Poop, Mommy, poop." Oh double Sh****. (Lucky Habib was too sick to get out of bed. Usually I let him deal with these things.)
Anyway, what do I learn? Maybe to just be thankful in all things. At least things are moving for her.