Breaking but not entering

"Micheal," she asks in exacerbation, "can I have a credit card?"

It's Cassidy, the 9 year old, who left her phone at her Dad's house, which is locked and there's no one home to let her inside.

"Sure," I say thinking ... well, this is going to be fun!

Snatching the card, Cass runs to the front door and desperately sticks a corner of the card into the key hole as I giggle from inside the car.

A few minutes later I stroll up and say, "You're pretty desperate."

"I have to poop too," she explains.

"Oh," I say not knowing what else to say.

"This always works on TV," she sighs.

"Does it?" I laugh.

"Yeah, you just have a flimsy card," she concludes handing it back to me.

"Well I can't argue with that," I say taking the maxed out piece of plastic.

Climbing back inside the car, Cass says, "I guess we'll have to wait."

"On what?"

"My Dad or my Grandma," she explains.

"Not going to happen," I respond worried about the whole pooping thing.

"Where are we going?" she demands as I drive away.

"To your dance class. They have bathrooms."

"I can't poop there," she loudly says.

"Why not?"

"People can hear."

"Oh," I say ... not knowing what else to say.