Toadstool did not go well. First, he ran to the carts at the Dollar Store next door and pitched a fit when I repeatedly said we were not going in there. This was either a REALLY good call on my part or the beginning of our troubles. I eventually picked him up and carried him to the bookstore where I told the staff we wouldn't stay long if they would just check quickly for Bitner's book I'd be out of there immediately. They did not have it in stock. They were very considerate. T. had quit screaming but still wanted to be carried and did not want to stay at the bookstore. So. Back to the carts next door, where he picked one out, asked to be put in and we went into the dollar store, where he then wanted back down again so he could roam freely.
To the drinks cooler, which contained Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Aquafina and no non-water, uncaffeinated beverage (e.g. Sprite, 7-Up, Sierra Mist, Ginger Ale wtf). He wanted the Mountain Dew (it looks like one of the ones he likes). I kept pointing out the water and eventually resorted to removing him bodily from the store to the van. At this point, it got kinda ugly. No to: goldfish, water, getting in his seat. It is not hot, per se, but it's very muggy so I opened some windows; he wanted to escape the van. A security guy or possibly a cop on foot (unclear) heard the tantrum and paused in his rounds. When I noticed him, I waved him over. I'd recently discovered T. needed a new diaper (hard to be in a good mood when you are sitting in a full diaper). I got him out of the full one and halfway into the fresh one when I decided screw this, he doesn't need to have his sandals on anyway I'll just take them off. Apparently this was a huge error on my part and T. became inconsolable. Putting the shoes on is not okay. Putting the diaper on is not okay. Nothing is okay. Back to the cop, after a brief glance decides for reasons of his own that this is NOT something he has any intention of getting involved in. He ran like a scared little boy. At that point, I was pretty open to suggestions and/or assistance (if, say, the cop wanted to keep an eye on the kid in the vehicle while I ran into the store to use the bathroom, say, I'd have been eternally grateful. Eternally. Grateful. NOT being sarcastic here).
In any event, I just let T. cry for a while and stand there while I explained to him that at this point I did not care what he did (I had him in the van, after all; there are some limits). He cried. Eventually, he requested boob and got himself back under some semblance of emotional equilibrium, at which point water was okay, a diaper was okay, goldfish were great, keys were excellent and could I help him with the seatbelt in the driver's seat?
Sure, sugarplum. Whatever the hell you want.
And then the flood came. But by that point, I'd bribed him into his carseat and there was no way I was stopping before we got home, where I could legally leave him in the van AND go find a bathroom.
ETA: And may I just say, while the Odyssey is a tremendously roomy vehicle, all that moving around with a screaming kid while very, very pregnant? Uncomfortable does not even begin to cover it. Duly noting, of course, that nearly any other vehicle would have been impossible.