A mile in mile shoes...or socks

Saturday, I took Lily to DC to "see the monuments". She was sick on
the day her class went, so I said "don't worry Lils, I'll take you
someday".

Someday. The operative word. Someday. Funny how that word has no real
quantification as an adult. As a child, it means "not today, but most
likely tomorrow".

Anyway, we went 45 minutes in a car. 40 minutes into it Lily
announced that she needed to pee. I told her that we'd be there in 5
minutes. After 2 minutes, I hear:

"daddy, can't we go to one of those buildings to pee?"(referring to
CACI and all the buildings on 66)

I explained that there were, in fact, only 9 parking spots in Arlington and that they were taken today, but we would be "there" in 3 minutes.  As luck would have it, we were there on time, and parked right on Constitution and 20th.  As I got out of the car, Lily, transfixed in a gaze, walked over my seat and got out of the car.  As we started walking, I realized that she left her snack and her sunglasses.  As she walked next to me, I realized that she walked a strange walk.  A half-step with her foot turned in and her arm tucked in. (???)

In the distance across the road, I saw a building.  I thought it was a bathroom, and told Lily so.  As I got closer, I realized that it was the Refreshment Stand...with no bathrooms.  I was intent on letting her pee on the Refreshment stand ("We'll show *them*").  About 100 feet away, I saw the real bathroom.  We hobbled up there to let her do her thing.

You know that feeling you get when your mind and your bladder work together...and then compete?  I knew she was going thru that right now.  I knew that her bladder was glad and ready to let go.  So, I was sad when I saw the sign "Sorry, Closed for Temporary Renovations".  Dude.  The sign was rusted.  "Temporary"?  

I asked Lily if she wanted to walk to the other monument to go or go right here. "Here..."

I stood in front of her as she squatted down.  Almost in jest, I said, "Don't pee on yourself".

When after 2 minutes(according to Lily), I hear "Daddy, I peed on myself".  I started looking through my pockets for paper, receipts, anything to sop up the dregs.  As I looked down at my shoes, I remembered my old roommate "Cheech".  Cheech would always start our platoon runs with 2 socks, but return with none.  Thinking I was being careful not to step in the pee, I leaned to the side and took my shoe off and slipped my sock off and gave it to Lily.  Putting my shoe back on proved more difficult as the "water" wasn't "water".  So, now *I* needed my other sock.  

So, there I was, walking in the heat of early summer with no socks on and my feet on fire.  As I look over at Lily, she is swinging the sock around like she is getting ready to lasso a calf.