When we're in public, oh, say, in Banana trying to exchange a shirt and there are a bazillion young-ish, single-ish, career-ish women buying fancy wardrobes in line all around us, or in the post office where everyone's crabby that the line is twenty minutes long, or when I'm trying to have a professional conversation with someone that Lucy just happens to be present for, or with a cart full of groceries in a long line at the market. That's when it works best.
Here's how it goes: it starts with a simple "DOWN, Mama! Wanna WALK!" And I go through the "We're running a quick errand. Almost done!" singy-songy spiel. The child is pacified for a moment. Until it recommences. "All done, Mama. Walk, pees, Mama. Al-al-all done pees." The line hasn't moved and it's going to be a good minute before I'm done with my task. I start a Where is Thumbkin or Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes some other such humiliating thing. I THINK it's humiliating. But it's not really anything compared to what Lucy's can bust out to get her way. Again, she is pacified for a moment.
Then it begins: "Ooooh. Toots, Mama. Toots inna DIAPER." I ignore. "One, two, three, four, seven toots!" I continue to ignore. Maybe people won't understand her babbling! Heh heh, silly kid. After a warm up comes the escalation: "Smell like POOPOOS, Mama." More. And louder: "AAAA! POOPOOS, PEEYOO! POOPOOS IN DIAPER! (fake cry) OWIE!" I can no longer ignore and people are staring at us. "BLEH, MAMA 'TINKEY POOPOOS (fake cry) NO LIKE IT." Well, I can't leave her sitting here for any longer with an uncomfortable dirty diaper, now CAN I? I guess I could, but one of these people that just don't get it are going to call the authorities and I'm going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation with CPS.
So, I go back to the car or bathroom or bench or whatever to regroup.
The diaper? It is DRY and CLEAN.
I have lost my place in line. My task no longer seems important enough to go back in there and face that line. I give up.*
Lucy wins again.
*Except in the grocery store scenario. There's no way I would let a squirrelly toddler trump the hard work of a full grocery cart.