Its amazing how the little things you don't think about get you into trouble. Let me tell you a story.
Today I went shopping and took me eldest daughter with me. She is 5 and has autism
As I always do, just before we left I asked her to go to the toilet, just to make sure we were safe for the hour or so that we would be out. I hadn't taken into account the amount of fruit juice she had been drinking in the morning. So it came as something of a surprise to me when she decided to tell me in a quiet voice, at the farthest away part of the store, on a busy Saturday at 2pm that she needed to go to the toilet.
Immediately I size up the situation. Not going to the toilet is, not an option. She can't really hold it and will melt down if wet. I start moving in the direction of the facilities. It's busy, so I am dodging in and out of trollies and people, causing a certain amount of havoc as I go against the flow. Thinking on the move, I consider that I don't have a change of clothes, that she will not be able to cope with having wet pants and trousers, and so I determine I need to get there as quickly as possible and speed up. Credit to my girl, she sped up too, but not quite as fast as I would have liked. By the time we reach the toilet I am practically running, dragging her with me.
I abandon the trolly outside the loos and aim straight for the disabled loos - Engaged. argh! Without a break in stride I hustle her into the men's toilet - 2 cubicles, both occupied. Dammit!
By this point she is dancing and whining, but all I can do is tell her she has to wait. As I am looking for a solution my eyes alight on the urinals...
And I get an idea.
So, quickly whipping down her trousers and pants, I lift her up and hold her over the urinal. Genius me!
"right" I say "use the toilet".
And frankly, this is where I went wrong. For, you see, I hadn't asked her what she needed to do in the toilet. Imagine my horror when I feel her tense up and start to strain. And sure enough what I assumed was going to be number 1 was number 2.
And with perfect timing a cleaner enters the toilet as I am trying to figure out how to clean her bum without access to a cubicle. He takes one look at the accusatory turd in the urinal. A quick radio message to security later and I am being asked to leave the premises and not come back.
But I do not leave. I explain to them about autism and the likelihood of a screaming fit if they force me to leave now plus I already have a trolly full of food outside that they will have to put back on the shelves, so grudgingly the security person allows me to collect the final item on my list, pay for my goods and leave I peace but not before reminding me that he mows my face and if I return the police will be called.
Strangely I find this funny rather than annoying. I'm sure I can resolve it with a letter to the manager but what a way to spend your Saturday morning!