Perhaps the most daunting aspect of potty training is the perpetual tour of public restrooms that I get to participate in everytime I leave my house. To stave off mistakes I make it a point to have Novalie try to go to the bathroom every time we stop somewhere. Novalie usually obliges me, but she has a request. She likes to use the stall with the handicap bars in it. She balances herself on the edge of the toilet. Her sweet little rear perched so precariously, and just far enough in to the toilet to clear the rim. The bar helps her do this perfectly. There is a serious problem; however, with the handicap stalls. They have another common patron. Old Ladies.
Old ladies are sweet. I love them. Really. But they have one serious personality flaw. They hover. I swear there must be some pamphlet that AARP sends out that details all the exotic diseases one can get from sitting on a toilet seat. Because I can just tell they treat that seat like it is covered in the plague. They pee ALL OVER IT. But that, my friends, is not the worst part. The worst part is on our way in to the bathroom we often pass these ladies. They are holding the door for us, or smiling at us as they wash their hands. Oh yes they think my sweet, beautiful, innocent children are darling, but apparently not darling enough to warrant a quick wipe of the seat! By the time I get into the stall and see the decoration they’ve left me, they’re gone.
Oooo Old Ladies- now I’m mad. I now have to wipe the seat off while I try to keep my kid from licking the floor, or picking the booger off the wall, or playing with the “baby trashcan” as she calls it. Then I must decide if the toilet paper swipe is enough, or if I need to break out some hand sanitizer. All of this has to be done with an increasingly heavy more than one year old strapped to my chest.
I realize that these Old Ladies must understand physical difficulty seeing as how they can no longer urinate without a helping hand. I would just like to let it be known that in the future when this happens, I will charge right back out of that stall, find your aged cherubic face and ask you if you wouldn’t mind too much please WIPING YOUR PEE OFF THE SEAT thank you!
Am I alone here? Does anyone else have this problem?
You are a brave woman. I would love to see you yell at an old woman!
Lucky for me- I have passed on my fear of public restrooms to my child — Fortunately though, Aubri only pees like every 8 hours … so it’s generally not a problem when we go out. And she’s terrified of the auto-flushers ….
Very nice blog, Julie – and so true, unfortunately!
LOL! So true!
Man, give an older sista a break!