Fight for the Fannies: China Cafe Waikiki, Peachtree City, GA

I have decided that there should be an event in the Olympics for diaper changing.  If you’ve ever had to change the diaper of a squirmy jelly-bodied toddler, you know what I mean.  Now, just imagine having to do this in a public restroom WITH NO CHANGING TABLE!!!

That’s right folks, it’s time for another episode of Fight for the Fannies.  This episode brings us to a small little Chinese restaurant in Peachtree City, Georgia - home of the planned community and golf courses, golf courses and oh yeah, golf courses.  The restaurant in violation of the changing table ordinance enforced here on Pinkie and the Bean is China Café.  This used to be known as China Café 9, but now it’s called China Café Waikiki. (I have no clue.  Maybe they are trying to tell folks that the changing table is in Waikiki, I don’t know.)

So let me paint the picture for you of my latest entry into Olympic Diaper Changing.  I take the Bean into the ladies room.  This is one of those one room bathrooms.  You know, you open the door and there is a toilet, a trashcan, a sink and well...that’s it.  The toilet has no lid on it.  I mean, what was I expecting...if they don’t have a changing table, do you think they are gonna spring for a toilet lid, too???  Duh!  So I’m standing there trying to figure out my best course of action.  The first one that came to mind was to go back out to the register counter and plop Bean on the top of that and change her right there in front of the host.  But I hadn’t gotten my food yet, and I’ve seen the movie Waiting..., so I figured I’d play it safe this time.

And this might be TMI - Too Much Information - but it is part of the story, so I’ll apologize in advance for where I’m about to go with this.  But ever since I was pregnant and even after having the Bean, I can be fine, no bladder alerts or anything, UNTIL I see a toilet.  Then, I got to go right then.  Immediately.  Pronto!  I don’t understand that one, either.

So, there’s a tall trashcan in one corner of the small bathroom, a toilet in another corner and a sink right next to it.  Then you have the door handle that is one of those lever-type handles that all you have to do is press or pull down on it and it opens.  Bean has made friends with each one of these items recently.  She loves to play in the trashcan, loves to wash her hands in the toilet bowl and has recently learned that she can open doors with these types of handles cause the builder of Nanny’s house never considered a toddler like Bean when they installed those door handles on all of her doors in her home.  Sadly though, Bean has not yet learned the meaning behind “stand still”.  So as soon as I see the toilet, I immediately start doing the “pee-pee dance” and am trying to figure out what I should do with Bean while I go potty.

I stood her in the middle of the floor and got myself ready to “hover”.  You know what I mean, ladies.  But there must be some type of gravitational pull between a toddler and all things “off limits” cause as soon as I let her hand go, she is pulled towards the trash can.  I grab her and get her back to the center of the room.  That one wasn’t so bad, but then she takes off to the door handle.  I didn’t know how close I was to becoming the evening’s entertainment at ‘ole China Café, so I grabbed her other arm and pulled her back, almost losing my balance from the hover.  Then she realizes “oh, look what Mommy is doing.  Wait there’s some space in between Mommy and the potty...hmmm...”  I had to make a split second decision here.  Either I could save the hover and yank Bean back from the waterfall she thinks she sees and can play in or I take a chance and go commando on a public toilet seat to keep my kid’s hands out of the toilet.  I take the hit.  That’s right, I threw myself on the grenade.  Full force, too.

By now, I’m infected with the cooties of God only knows what and I still haven’t solved the one problem I set out to when I came in the room to begin with.  I get the Bean up on my lap, while I am still indisposed, and contort my upper body around so that I can grab the diaper and the wipes, almost dropping said clean, new diaper on the bathroom floor.

So this is the picture...I’m sitting on the toilet with my pants down around my ankles, I’ve got a half naked toddler on my lap that is trying her best to wiggle herself to freedom, and a diaper that I am juggling off the tips of my fingers trying to keep it off the floor.

The force was with me cause I never dropped the kid, the diaper, or my mind.  I finally got Bean put back together and put one hand on top of her head trying to keep her in one place while I finished putting myself back together.  It was quite a sight let me tell you.  And then I get back out to the table and my husband just looks at me and says “Gosh, what took so long?”
He came closer than he knows to getting his eye dotted right then and there.

Needless to say, this whole performance could have been prevented to begin with if the wonderful owners at China Café in Kedron Village would have installed a changing table for their patrons.  But I never got to tell the manager about my experience and recommend that a changing table be installed because shortly after returning to the table, Bean decided she wasn’t interested in the Olympics any longer. [That’s sooo two minutes ago, Mom!]  She now wants to try out for the Opera.  She proceeded to put on her best screaming singing performance for the whole restaurant.  Sadly, the performance was cut short by a mother who is not an Opera fan in the least and as soon as Bean and Mommy went out the front door while Daddy got to finish his meal, Bean got stage fright and the performance was quickly canceled.  Isn’t that weird how that happens?

Fight for the Fannies Offender:

China Cafe Waikiki.
1019 Peachtree Pky N
Peachtree City, GA 30269
http://sushichinacafe.com/
No changing table in the ladies' room.