Automatic Toilet Door Systems.
The Supermarket toilet and changing cubicle Approx. 3x3 centimeters.
Are you flipping kidding me?
Great in theory, not great if you have kids who physically shake with the willpower required to follow the ‘DO NOT PRESS THE BUTTON, DO YOU HEAR ME?’ rule.
MissChief and Lil Man in unison ’Yes Mummmmy’ whilst batting their eyelashes adorably and PRESSING THE BUTTON REPEATEDLY. Our door is opening and closing continuously so the shoppers who have now started to form an orderly queue outside, can see into the CUBICLE OF STRESS.
I say to my son ‘Hurry arrggh! Go for a pee and I’ll change your sister’s nappy... if I can just find her changing mat’
As I’m searching under the buggy, he pulls his trousers down and goes for a pee. I take MissChief out of the buggy and the whole thing falls backwards with the weight of the shopping hanging from it. I’m so busy trying to deal with the carnage, I don’t notice my son is washing his hands in the basin next to him and peeing all over the floor until it’s too late.
The buggy hits the handryer on the way down.
THESE DEVISES CANNOT HAVE BEEN TESTED ON THE UNDER FIVES! The noise akin to a jet fuel engine in such close proximity sends my daughter into a full blown screaming meltdown. She wraps her little arms around my neck and won’t let go, her nappy is around her ankles.
The buggy is on the floor that is now flooded with the (still running) tap water and urine. My Lil Man has managed to shuffle his way to the door with his trousers still around his ankles.
He is saying MUMMY, MUMMY over and over again and then presses the button for the 20th time! I Flip Out and shout ‘WHAT IS IT?’
The door opens slowly revealing a line of shocked elderly shoppers (I swear one of them actually let out a little scream) they are not used to such scenes, it is WAITROSE for goodness sakes!
‘I love you Mummy and you are so beautiful’ my son says as he spots a packet of biscuits poking out of one of the carrier bags.
I am SO impressed by his Oscar winning performance that I hand him a biscuit and shove one in my own mouth and get the hell out of there before the guilt and embarrassment threatens to swallow me up.
As I race towards the exit I bump into a shopper and he says ‘What ARE you doing? ‘
Shaking my head I say ‘I really have NO idea sometimes’
‘Sorry’ he says ‘I was talking to my daughter’.