No Restroom for the Weary

Today was one of those days that felt like transition after transition, interspersed with brief moments of calm. It was probably that Isaac isn't feeling 100 percent yet after a week-long bout with some sort of respiratory virus. And when he's tired, he's edgy. And when he's edgy, he refuses to go to the potty. And when that happens, everything goes sideways.

Today we decided to escape the city and drive about an hour south for a little fresh air. We had lunch at the Palo Alto Creamery, a venerable institution serving burgers and fries to Silicon Valley residents for, well, a very long time. And, voila, refusal to go after. Loud refusal. Attention-grabbing refusal. "Why-don't-we-leave-and-try-later?" refusal.

So, okay, fine, we're trying not to make a tug-of-war out of this. For one thing, it's no fun. For another, it's way too Freudian. So we gave up and took a walk outside, where we passed Waterworks, an incredibly elegant and expensive store selling, what else--incredibly elegant and expensive bathroom fixtures. Isaac nearly yanked my arm off in his excitement, so in we went. We walked past model after gorgeous model of bathrooms that I could spend a lifetime in: huge, cozy ceramic tubs, sculpted sinks, plush towels, gorgeous tile, and yes--the finest in lavatory design.

Immediately it became evident that Isaac thought these floor models were there for his personal use. Luckily, I thought fast. "Isaac, these potties don't really work. They're just, uh, pretend." (As the absurdity of that remark hit me, I realized that it was now inevitable: I was destined to blog about this. How meta is that?) We dashed to the counter and in my most charming harried mother voice, I asked if we could use their facilities. The woman behind the counter glanced at me, glanced down at Isaac, and suggested we try across the street at the Creamery--the very bathroom Isaac had just loudly rejected out of hand.

Crap.

Isaac looked a bit more urgent now, and yanked me back to the floor models for another try. On the way, we ran into another saleswoman, who asked if we needed any help. "Um yes," I asked, all harried mommy charm again, "Do you happen to have a public restroom?" (Pleading look at child). "Certainly," she said crisply and led us to the back, where, sure enough, there was a sparkling-clean, quiet-yet-understated restroom. Mission accomplished.

On the way out the door, Isaac glanced back into the store window. "Lots of potties!" he exclaimed, grinning at us.

Comments

[drama mama]

There was a great JACKASS bit where one of the dudes took a dump in a display toilet.

Totally understandable. And charming. At least to me. Hell, he's four.

Smaaaaart kid, too.

[kristen]

Um, yes...but what about the rude salesperson who tried to send you back across the street? That's the kind of thing that gets me crazy with the need to go back and give her a piece of my mind. Not right, what she did, not right at all. Especially since they did have a restroom you could use.

Okay. Sorry. Just. Mad.

[Susan E]

Yeah, I had some choice words for her (well, to myself anyway) ...I don't think it was a difference thing, though. I actually think she just didn't want a four-year-old non customer in her bathroom. Which is rude nonetheless, esp for the little ones who are still working on body control. Now THAT would have served her right.

[Niksmom]

Soooo glad the second salesperson was helpful. Reminds me of the time a friend's 5 yr old went in one of the bathrooms in a model house we were touring. Just stood there and "dropped trou" as they say. Oblivious to the fact that there were about 10 people walking past at that moment. Hey, when ya gotta go...

Would have served the crabby woman right if Isaac had done it in one of the floor models! (Ok, YOU would have died on the spot, but it would have been poetic justice don't you think?)

[Kim Westwood]

I can only imagine that the first sales assistant does not have any children and probably has never had to look after any young children in their life.

But then, some younger people would not realise just how much anguish baby potty training can cause a parent. My second child almost had me almost in despair!

Boo to the first sales assistant and hooray for the second!