This Boots was made for walking (out of)


I was in Reading with Youngest Son earlier in the week. We were in Boots and I was about to make the radical decision to buy a trendy pair of sunglasses to replace the seriously naff ones I have been wearing until I saw my reflection in a shop window. . . .

Anyway, there we were. And there I was, poised with my hand going into my bag to reach for the credit card . . . when Youngest Son says: "I want to go to the toilet Mummy," in one of those voices that leave you in no doubt that he means it.

I looked round quickly. We were on the first floor of a seriously big Boots store. We were surrounded with all the toys and paraphenalia (and sunglasses) that go together with shopping and being a parent. There was no sign suggesting a ladies' loo. I spotted a young shop assistant and collared him. "My son needs to go to the loo," I said, can you tell me where the Ladies' is?"

"We don't have one."

This took a moment to sink in. "You don't have a customer toilet . . . ?"

"There are staff toilets," he said helpfully. My face must have brightened because he followed up quickly with, "but you can't use those."

"He's four years old and he needs to go to the loo!" I said, plaintively.

He was clearly not a parent himself. . . . "I think there are some customer toilets in Marks & Spencer," he said. "They're . . ."

"I know where they are!" I replied somewhat sharply and marched out of the place. There was no way I was going to be able to propel Youngest Son all the way to M&S without a large puddle of pee making an inappropriate appearance. A vague memory propelled me in the direction of a nearby cafe. "My son needs to go to the loo," I explained to the chap who appeared to be in charge. "Please can we use yours?"

"Customers only" he replied.

There are times, when, as a Mother, you know you have to stand up to authority or else civilisation as we know it will crumble. I looked that man in the eye. I spoke slowly, clearly and with a lot of emphasis, making a great effort to ensure that everyone around -many of whom were mothers with children -could hear me: "HE'S FOUR YEARS OLD AND HE NEEDS TO GO TO THE LOO . . . . HE CAN'T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER!"

He unlocked the door and let us in. We legged it up the stairs with Youngest Son explaining that he wasn't actually Four yet . . . . . and both of us breathed a big sigh of relief when we made it in time . . .

Honestly Boots, can't your senior executives remember what it was like to be nearly four and desparately wanting to go to the loo? I really think you could treat your customers a bit better.

Never did get those sunglasses . . .