Showdown at the Walmart Restroom

There were several possibilities for this title.

Old woman who forgot her anxiety medication.

To pee or not to pee, that is the question.

Mind your own business.

Loony on the loose in the loo.


Anyhow, here's the lowdown. I went to Walmart today. Not by choice, because honestly, who shops there unless it's a necessity. Oh I suppose there's someone out there who actually enjoys the toothless cashiers, the grimy floors, and the disarray on every aisle and wants to read People magazine while waiting forty minutes in line to purchase $30 dollars worth of china-made crap, but that wasn't what I was in the mood for today.

I was looking for a new, smaller booster seat, so I was meeting my husband there. Hence, I had all four boys with me. My cart was loaded with Pete in the front, Jake and Nate in the basket, and Gabe walking alongside me. Consistent with the unwritten rule of Walmart shopping, Gabe had to go to the bathroom as soon as we walked in the doors. The thing you must know is that Gabe either has a micro-sized bladder or no "warning sensors." Basically, when he's got to go, he's got to GO NOW. So we all went.

As I walk into the bathroom, still pushing my cart full of boys (because the other rule is When One Needs to Go, They All Need to Go), an older woman walks up in front of me and says: "Your son is too old to use this bathroom."

She's standing next to Pete, so I think she's joking. "Oh, you mean the baby," I say back with a laugh.

And then she got NASTY. "No, your older son. He's much too old to use this bathroom," she snaps.

"No." I state, very firmly. "He's only 7, and he's going in here with me."

"You shouldn't bring him in here. He's TOO OLD" she starts yelling. Along with a bunch of other not nice things.

"No," I repeat, "I'm keeping him with me." Meanwhile I'm catching the leaping Nate who needs to go potty and still needs help getting his pants out of the way (and making sure he doesn't pee all over the seats, because I'm nice like that).

The woman keeps on with her rant, to the astonishment of two other ladies in the bathroom. She leaves with a flourish, shouting at me "You need to GROW UP!"

I look at the other ladies and say, "Well, I'm not sending him into the men's room by himself with all the perverts running around." And they kinda nodded, but I wished they'd have said something more supportive.

Because SERIOUSLY. Has anyone ever had a problem with a mom taking her children in to the women's restroom? That's what you do folks, even when all God's given you are boys.

Talk about making an unpleasant chore even worse. I didn't even feel better when I saw her later in the store and loudly said to my husband, "There's the lady who couldn't mind her own business in the bathroom."

To which she yelled, "Keep your kid out of the bathroom!"

So I yelled back, "Get a life!" Because I'm the bigger person.

So here I sit totally irritated by this cranky lady and thinking of all the other things I should have said to her. Maybe:

"I'm an attorney and I've read too many criminal cases to let my child go into a busy men's restroom unaccompanied."

"Clearly you've never had any of your own children, so don't tell me how to raise mine."

"That's it boys, mama's had it with the crazy lady. Line up and FIRE!"

"I'm sure he'd be more traumatized by seeing you in a stall than you'd be by seeing him."

I don't know. What would you have done?

P.S. The other thing that bugs. . . Gabe asked me, "Mom, what did I do wrong?" I assured him he did nothing wrong because he did what I told him to do. Ooooh, the nerve of some people.


The morning after: Check out this answer, and make sure you click on the links. Yeah, I'm keeping my boys with me for several more years.