Adventure time

In January of last year, our family went on holidays to the south coast. We'd rented a small, old country home to escape the rat race for a week. The home, built in the 1870s and restored 100 years later was just to die for.

However, what happened in Nowra on the way down was an omen for what was to happen in the coming week.

Our youngest threw up everywhere.

Thankfully it wasn't in my parents car which we were borrowing (a long story). But instead, what happened was that across the week, all succumbed to the dreaded tummy bug.

So we spent a week watching 'The regular show' and 'Adventure time'.

These two shows really defined a pretty ordinary holiday where all we could manage to do was veg on the couch and watch drug inspired cartoons (seriously, they are that weird). We actually look back on the holiday with fond memories now.

However, as we sat in a Thai restaurant tonight during the holiday period, it got me thinking again. I was sagely reminded that having kids offers a different kind of 'adventure time' every time you go out. And I mean, every time.

Tonight's restaurant adventure will be... going to the toilet.

Before you think I've lost my sanity, let me explain. I have two boys. Both are now at the age where they easily can take themselves to the toilet. It's been that way for a few years. At home they're in and out with few if any dramas.

However, for some reason, try visiting the toilet in a restaurant and all hell breaks loose.

So, from 12 years (the combined ages of my boys) of restaurant 'adventures' let me share the joys and horrors of restaurant visits to the 'little boys room'. I'll put them in categories so you can laugh or groan... and make notes if you don't have kids yet.

Seriously, if you're looking down the barrel of sons, you want to make notes. Just sayin.

About now, my parents will be reading this and laughing while recounting endless unfortunate stories involving myself and my three brothers.

1. Timing
Even though you got them to go before you left home... oh yes, remember to do that... they will need to go at the most inopportune time. Your steak has just arrived after a 30 minute wait where the crayons, drinks and video game batteries ran out early. You take your second mouthful and you hear the hue and cry...

"Dad, I need to doe to da toiwet" (both my boys talked like Baby Bear from Sesame Street)

If you're lucky, this will be the last piece of information they provide. If you're unlucky they will need to provide you with a lot more.

2.  To much information
You're probably already moving, but they've decided to tell you EXACTLY what needs to happen during their 'adventure time'. It will always be told to you in their loudest voice. It will always include details that will make you realise that every humiliation you suffered in highschool was a very small affair. It will probably go a little like this...

"but Dad, I weawwy need to do a [insert gross bodily function]"

You'll try and lessen the impact by asking them to talk more quietly or saying, "yes, yes, I know". If you're really lucky they'll tell you again, but either way the cat is out of the bag and you're onto the next part of the challenge.

3. Geography
At home, they know where the toilet is. It never moves, it's in an obvious place and the door is always open... whether you like it or not. Not in a restaurant. What is it with restaurateurs? Everybody can see the bar, the cash register, the kitchen door, the plastic plants and often in a Chinese restaurant, the fish tank (which your child has probably already made a b-line for). The toilets, now that's another story.

Toilets are NEVER easy to find.

If you're lucky they'll be inside the building. It won't be obvious, but at least the odds of the child ending up locked outside in an ally or 'helping cook dinner' will be seriously lessened. If they're 'part of the complex' you'll wish you brought your GPS. Any way you approach it, you be in for something akin to the beginning of 'Maxwell Smart'. Doors leading to more and more doors. All of which are spring loaded. All of which have handles that small children love to open.

If the toilets are outside, just pack up and go home.

My boys are old enough to go on their own in a few places, so I've made the mistake of sending them together. Oh by golly, I never learn. Which brings us to the next puzzle in our quest...

4. Signage
This bit is particularly painful. If your boys are anything like mine, going is an adventure in itself. Figuring out what the sign on the door says/means is a whole new game. It's like visiting King Tut's tomb. Crazy pictures, weird writing, who know's what it means? But heck, they're enjoying it. Tonight my older son came back to tell me he could only find the "ladies" toilets. He's a very good reader. Easily reads way above his age.

The sign he took me to said "toilets" in dodgy metal running writing.

Then you have to decide what sex the toilets are. Can you imagine? One restaurant we visit has different looking pigs. Both were pink so the boys couldn't decide which was which. Mexican, well they can't even pronounce the words, let alone see the difference between pictures of big stupid hats. It goes on and on. But know this... know it with certainty...

The boys will end up in the women's toilets numerous times.

Their older sister once came running back to the table waving her arms around yelling that our youngest was, "in the girls toilets and he's being really naughty".

I tried to hide under the table while my wife went to extract him.

Now just remember, you might have FOUND the toilets and entered them, but your quest is far from over. There is still the act to perform and the return home to accomplish.

5. Layout and function
Way down the end of a long list of wishes in restaurant design is... you guessed it, toilets. Their genuine wish is that you'll never even see it. And even if you do, your visit will be brief. So basically, it could be anything. What you can sure of is this...

Your child will be both excited, mesmerized and totally confused by it.

"Should they go in the stall? Should they try relieving themselves in a urinal 2 feet higher than their crutch? What are those weird, but very intriguing, lemon ice-blocks in the bottom of the trough? Why isn't it ok to touch everything in sight? Why can't I reach the pull string to make it flush? Surely it's ok to poke your head under the stall divider and say hello to the guy next door? [this really happened] Surely it's a funny joke to lock all the stall doors and scramble out from under them? Why should I make sure my shoes don't 'get wet'? It's normal to drop your pants and undies round your ankles isn't it?"

These are just some of the questions your son is asking himself and you. Then there are the 'in-stall' conversations. Ie, you've got them in the stall with you so they don't run amok.

"Dad, why do you... make that face... do smells... can I flush... can we go now... is mum next door?" And you reply, "no and leave the door LOCKED!" as they unlock it.

6. Mopping up
Now that you've succeeded in going to the toilet, you need to face the fact that there is one last challenge. Cleaning up. You may think this simple. You are wrong.

You can be sure that one or all of your sons has touched every serious germ infested device.

Things again get complicated. Taps, handles, soap dispensers, basins. All are specially designed to help children get soaked to the skin and slippery as all heck. They won't be able to turn the tap on. But when they do, you can bet your salary that the water will come out so fast they'll need a raincoat.

Then there is the hand drier.

This is both a terrifying and exciting device. One of our boys was pathologically afraid of them until just recently. The other one saw them as yet the final exciting part of a long toilet adventure. I'll be damned if he could ever get one to work on is own.

When the drier finally turned on, it would blow him halfway across the room while he laughed maniacally.

The triumphant return
Having successfully negotiated your quest, you drag two wet, smelly, excited boys back to the table. If you're lucky your steak will be lukewarm and the cheese sauce won't have congealed completely. Your wife will roll her eyes at you because it took her and your daughter 3 minutes with no dramas.

You might be tempted to relax back in the seat, take a long pull on your drink and bask in the relief that is having 'adventure time' over for the night. Don't do it. It's time to eat fast. Start cutting and chewing like no tomorrow. Time's a-wasting. If you're not careful there'll be a pull on your shirt sleeve and a little face will look up at the you...

"Dad, I need to doe to da toiwet adden..."

Seriously.