Open letter to Babies R Us

Dear Babies R Us:

As a working mother of an active almost one-year-old, I don’t have much free time. The free time I do have I like to spend reading US Weekly. Or eating ice cream while staring at the baby monitor. Or playing Words With Friends. Or watching reality TV. Tonight, however, I’m using my precious free time to write this letter.

My daughter and I venture to your store the other day in search of the obligatory “My First Valentine’s Day” outfit. You know, the one I’ll spend $30 on for her to wear once. You have nothing. Literally two outfits, one of which was short sleeved (we had a blizzard last week), and only in sizes 3 months and 24 months. Yes, I realize I waited until February 13, but shouldn’t you guys keep extra stock for crappy, procrastinating moms like myself? I mean, you’re the baby specialists, right? Shouldn’t you know that not all moms sit at home doing crafts they find on Pinterest and that maybe some are forgetful hot messes busy and anticipate that we might not be able to get to these things until the last minute? Nope. My daughter spent her first Valentine’s Day looking less than festive; so thanks for that.

Since the Valentine’s outfit is a bust, I head over to the sippy cup section to pick up these particular Nuk sippy cups (you don’t have those either) with my daughter happily sitting in the shopping cart. I realize I have to pee. Really bad. So we head to the restrooms and this is where the true nightmare begins.

“No merchandise beyond this point,” reads a sign. Fair enough. I mean, I don’t really want to be buying merchandise that may have fallen on a dirty public bathroom floor. Totes get it; we’ll leave the shopping cart outside the door and pray no one jacks our cart cover. But tell me – what is a mother supposed to do with her almost one-year-old while she pees in the stall of a public restroom? Hold her? While she squirms and tries to touch the filthy stall walls or worse, the toilet seat or flusher? I’m 100% sure I’m not the first mother of an almost one-year-old to have to play out this scenario, so we give it a try.

I leave my shopping cart outside the bathroom per the sign, scoop up my daughter and go into the handicapped stall. I have to pee so bad I might die.

I use a piece of toilet paper as a glove to close and lock the stall door, rest my daughter on my hip and hastily untie the drawstring to my yoga pants. Perhaps a little too hastily, because instead of untying, I accidentally create a knot. I’m fussing and fumbling with the drawstring, making it worse and worse until I have the tightest, most annoying knot in history. I have to pee so bad at this point that I can’t stand up straight. Untying the knot while holding my wiggling baby is impossible.

Exasperated and in pain, back to the cart we go. I put my daughter back in, thank God that she’s in a good mood, and hide behind a display to work on this effing knot with two free hands. This knot is Boy Scout status and a freaking magician couldn’t untie it. I contemplate peeing my pants, but instead hurry to the customer service area to see if I can borrow some scissors to cut the drawstring. Desperate times call for desperate measures. There are no BRU employees to be found. I think holding my pee is giving me a UTI.

Now hopeless, we go back to the restroom and I make the executive decision to break BRU’s rule and wheel the entire shopping cart into the bathroom. What else am I supposed to do? Leave my daughter alone in a shopping cart outside the bathroom door? Let her crawl around on the bathroom floor with puddles of pee? My daughter is cracking up at this point, btw.

Once we’re safely locked in the handicapped stall again, I force my pants over my hips with that bitch of a knot still tied and begin to relieve myself. I had to go so bad that I couldn’t even take the time to make a toilet paper nest for the disgusting seat. I just squat and pee. But something feels really weird. Oh, I know what it is.

I’m peeing through my underwear. Yup!

I was in such a state of agony and had to pee so. freaking. bad. and couldn’t use two hands to untie my stupid drawstring correctly because I had to hold my almost one-year-old, so now I am peeing through my underwear. Feeling pretty fab.

So, BRU, why am I writing to tell you all this? Maybe because you’re supposed to be the freaking baby superstore and you haven’t thought of some solution for mothers of almost one-year-olds who need to use the restroom. I can’t be the only mom who has had to hold her baby in a public restroom stall and pee (although I might be the only one to pee through her underwear, then have to throw them away and go commando). I mean, I’m no inventor, but shouldn’t you guys have some kind of chair or something that we can put our babies in so we can use both hands while going to the bathroom? And how about some antibacterial wipes like they have at the grocery store to wipe everything down before putting your baby in it? Because you know that seat thing would get gross. I’m pretty sure BRU has the money to invest in something like this since every pregnant woman in history registers with you people.

I’m not blaming you that I peed through my underwear. OK, I kind of am. If I had two hands to begin with, I wouldn’t have effed up that stupid knot in my pants and I could have taken care of business with some shred of dignity.

My trip to your store sucked. Oh, and also – your cashier didn’t take off the anti-theft device from a dress I bought for my daughter, so I have to go all the way back to your store (note to self: pee first) and have it taken off. And no alarm sounded when I walked out the exit door either – you might want to look into that, too.

Sincerely,

30ish

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One thought on “Open letter to Babies R Us

  1. Pingback: The Bubble Guppies party is over. Next. | 30ish

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