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THAT mother with THAT kid in THAT store

September 18, 2009

Yesterday, Northern living forced me into shopping at THAT store. It smelled like a commercial chemicals bazaar probably because every morning they make their employees chant I heart THAT store mantras while anointing them with Windex. (Windex, in addition to providing your household with a streak free shine, deactivates the parts of the brain that think employee benefits and fair wages are cool.)

One time a few years ago I bought some fabric there. When I took it through the till, the cashier stabbed herself on the antitheft pin and bled all over my textiles. I didn’t even return it because my conscience, who had been pulling my hair and poking my eyes since I entered the parking lot, started screaming that I now deservedly had the blood of THAT store’s employees on my hands. And so it was that my reupholstered love seat bore the blood of corporate injustice.

Anyway, it smelled really bad and I just wanted to get in and get out. I needed to buy a little potty for James because I have been potty training the kid since he was six weeks old. If I don’t get my game on soon, I will have conversations that go something like this:

Anonymous mommy: It took us a couple of weeks to toilet train Little Bobby. How long did it take to train James?
Claire: Oh, you know, TWO AND A HALF YEARS.

I do not want to have these conversations given that I’ve already been having these ones:

Anonymous mommy: We finally got Little Susan to sleep through the night at five months. When did James start sleeping through the night?
Claire: Er…

So I’ve picked out a potty, and James is with me and he’s building up toward a colossal meltdown because he just wants to give the potty a try for crying out loud, and I catch sight of a toy aisle and go, “JAMES! LOOK! COLORFUL PLASTIC THINGS!” And he goes, HELLO! and my stay in THAT store is extended, indefinitely, and then Hotel California starts running through my head and I fall to my knees and weep. Then two years later, we are still in THAT store and James is still not toilet trained, and I am wheeling a stroller with a potty balanced on his head and all you can see is the potty, his eyes, and a set of greedy little fingers wrapped around an over packaged set of construction vehicles, and everyone knows that this was not a planned purchase.

I never thought that would be me. These situations just take on a life of their own and you end up in this frame of mind where a meltdown in the middle of THAT store could reasonably mean death and a ticket straight to hell for you both.

In summary, the potty is used quite frequently but rarely for what it is intended. Storage for the construction vehicles, mostly.

pottydigger

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7 Comments leave one →
  1. Jean permalink
    September 18, 2009 11:51 am

    Eventually you will learn that going shopping with children for anything other than bulk flax seed is what is termed by psychologists, “A Bad Idea”. Even with bulk flax seed, be prepared to spend an extra hour in the store sweeping up flax seed under the eye of an irate employee.

  2. September 18, 2009 1:17 pm

    I read your post after dragging my two kids to THAT OTHER store (a.k.a. Dollarama). Norah pointed at the photo and announced “Kuck. Pot-pot.” (Truck – potty.) She seems to agree that housing a truck is a perfect use for a potty. Hers often plays host to balls, dolls and other toys. It has yet to play host to… well, let’s say it’s never been properly *used*.

  3. Davida permalink
    September 19, 2009 11:22 am

    I love it Claire!!! Everything of Lachlan’s that has some open space soon becomes storage space!!

  4. Colleen permalink
    September 19, 2009 9:17 pm

    If it makes you feel better, we left Canadian Tire with another (very strategically merchandised) ball today…

  5. Ashley permalink
    October 18, 2009 9:12 pm

    HAHAHAHAHA!
    I love it.
    I hate that store. I am proud of you for not taking back the fabric. That is actually a little bit heroic, I think. How are you so funny? That place totally is Hotel California… the times that I’ve forayed in (against my better judgment) I too have reliably become lost in some sort of fearful time warp… Maybe they have some kind of brain wave disrupting device?
    Also, if you didn’t have a potty, have you still been holding him in arms all this time? That’s amazing! I’m already trying to get Seraph to use hers… she likes it okay if I have the mirror in front (cause she’s used to the sink)…

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