Eastsider's

A good friend was in town last night and invited us over for dinner at her sister-in-law's house. We live on the east side and they live on the west side. Those of us who live on the east side will do just about anything to avoid driving anywhere near that side of town.

I'm really good with directions and looked them up on Google. So far, they have been consistently accurate. Except for last night.

The trip said it would take 40 minutes, so me, being always on time or early, planned for an hour. Good thing I did b/c we got lost.

As we are heading up this winding hill Eloise yells that she has to go pee-pee and poo-poo. Okay, what do I do now? Pull over, let her pee in her carseat if she can't make it, or risk waiting and I have no idea how long that will take.

Just then my friend calls. We had traveled too far up the hill. Eloise yells in panic again. I can try this signature move. No, I'm afriad. Or I can pull over into this neighborhood and have her pee in the grass at a vacant building lot. Perfect, let's try this.

So I get her out in, what I would call, a really affluent neighborhood, and I pull down her pants and the pressure is released. She is getting a kick out of the fact that she is able to pee in the grass. Thankfully she didn't poop b/c I would have felt like I had a dog and had to pick it up with a spare plastic grocery bag. We managed to get away with no pee on her clothes. Away we went to spend time with friends.

I'm sure all those people in those fancy houses were thinking, "Eastsider's".