When you gotta go…

when you gotta go


Today while participating in a rather tragically funny conversation on Facebook, I was reminded of an incident a couple of years back that was, in the words of my friend Alexandra, “a movie moment”.

Let me explain.

While doing some birthday shopping for my then, 9-year-old Sugar Bean–at Justice  (I know, hold your judgements & vomit, please)–I had my 3-year-old Sweet Pea in tow. As usual, I was short on time, so when she said “Mommy, I need to potty” and began doing the “pee-pee dance” while standing in line to check out– abandoning the arm load of goodies I had carefully selected, to venture out into the mall in search of a bathroom– was not an option. There were 2 women in line ahead of me, and 3 in line behind me. So I approached the teenaged cashier, and politely asked if there was a bathroom in back that my Sweet Pea could use.  She curtly replied, “No. It’s for employees only. A little irritated, I pressed on.. Really? She’s only 3, currently potty training and needs to go badly. I’d hate for you to miss the commission on this load of stuff I’m holding when I leave the store to take her to the bathroom. Because I don’t have time to come back and get it.”

She gave me NOTHING.  Just a blank stare so riddled with silent subtext, I could have narrated it.


I resumed my place in line, and very audibly  said  shouted to my precious little sprout, Sweetheart, the lady says you can’t use her bathroom, because it’s for big girls who work here, not for people who buy things to pay their salaries.”  

With that, Sweet Pea promptly peed on the floor. The carpeted floor. With such force and gusto, it splashed as it puddled, creating a sound that resonated throughout the entire store. That’s my girl!

By this time, it was my turn to pay for my purchases, and I approached the counter. Speechless, the Tart-in-Charge added things up. I forked over about $45 for at least $250 worth of clothing (those “Justice Bucks” really helped put the power in the punch). As I walked away from the counter, I turned and said “Perhaps it would have been a good idea to allow her use the bathroom. Now the carpet has to be sanitized, and I hope they make YOU pay for it.  Have a great day!” 

The 3 women in line behind me applauded. One even said, “You go girl! 

The moral of the story? I’m a terrible mom for not taking her to the bathroom, instead, risking detainment/possible arrest by mall security for insubordination while accompanying a minor and allowing her to urinate in public. Oh well. It’s not the first time I’ve made a questionable choice, and likely will not be the last! 

The irony? Not taking her was sooooo much more entertaining for everyone 🙂 

Plus, she got a new outfit complete with fresh undies, socks, and Converse hi-tops she had been asking for, along with some ice cream to soothe the trauma of peeing in public, and being applauded for it. Because when you are 3, that’s embarrassing. Boy is she in for a whole new kind of embarrassing in about 80 years!


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