Costco – Evelyn’s biggest portaloo

Evelyn was invited to a fancy dress party last week with the theme of Pirates and Fairies. Perfect timing as her latest obsession is the 1953 version of Peter Pan, which obviously portrays both of these professions. After conceding that a pumpkin costume was not a valid option, our toddler decided that she’d like to be a pirate. “Great” I thought – Costco have some pretty decent pirate costumes in right now, let’s go! “Do you need the toilet before we go?” I asked. “No” she lied.

I loved this film myself, I'm pleased she likes it.
I loved this film myself, I’m pleased she likes it.

25 minutes later we had managed to put one shoe on and a full cardigan. 5 minutes after that we’d managed both shoes and we embarked on the journey to Costco. As we set off Evelyn demanded that we play the “Wok You” song. I tried to think of where she may have experienced the beauty of Chinese quarter-tones, bamboo, wooden and sheng instruments and then quickly realised she meant “Rock You”. “We Will Rock You” to be precise, by Queen.

It’s a song she’s been stamping/clapping to (with surprisingly accurate rhythm!) and singing along with for about a week now. I used to like the song, but like Rusks and Petits Filous she’s completely ruined it for me now.

It’s a bloody 2 minute song, it’s on loop and it’s a weapon of mass distraction when I’m driving on a Thursday evening. Luckily it’s a 10 minute drive, so we suffered the song a mere five times.

Costco dash

Anyway…we got to Costco. I’d lost my card so I had to get a day pass from the customer services section. You know, the part of Costco where everyone’s taking the piss with the extremely liberal returns policy that Costco has. I looked at the returners with a half spite, half envious glare. Spite because they’d delayed me with their “my flowers died because I didn’t water them. Can I have my money back” bullshit, and envy because I’m banned from returning things to Costco. I’d returned a television four times. Three times because it was faulty, and once because they’d reduced the price by £100 just after I’d bought it.

It’s an awkward thing to return something then walk through the shop and pay for a new one, only to have the same person you returned it to serve you for the new one. I stood there inspecting my shoes through the whole transaction. She knew. I knew she knew, and she knew I knew she knew.

Don’t judge me.

Finally we were walking through Costco. I had that dread I always have when I go to any shop with Kathryn. She likes to spend – I mean, we all like to spend, but she likes to spend. If something is on offer, from £2,000,000 down to £1,000,000, then she has to have it because it’s such a fantastic deal! Combine that with the fact that I’m quite frankly a tight bastard, and we have a recipe for anxiety and potential buyer’s remorse.

Stay strong, fellas

Why has nobody invented fashionable blinkers for women yet? You see, Kathryn is clever with this. She will ask me about 4 or 5 things that she doesn’t really care about. She knows with each time I say “no, we can’t afford it”, it chips away at my armour and I’m worrying about coming across as needlessly frugal. Then it comes, the item she actually wants. BOOM – there it is, “Oh there’s that thing we were talking about. You know…I said we needed it. It’s so cheap here, we can’t do without this, I can’t believe they sell that here. Put that in the trolley Mark.”

I’m a Stepford fiancé at this point and I do as I’m told – all resolve and reasoning has been bled out of me via the previous refusals and she knows it. She’s as cunning as she is beautiful and I’m, well, I’m a tit.

We reach the costumes that Costco had for sale, and lead Evelyn over to the Pirate costumes.

“Here you go sweetheart” I say as I grab the costume and attempt to hold it up against her for sizing. Before I’d even got half way towards her she exclaims “It’s too big!”. I should probably mention that it was in fact too big. She had no way of knowing this though, she was right but for the wrong reasons and I hate it when that happens! There was no smaller size there but I try and appease her by looking anyway.

X marks the spot

As I turn away from Evelyn I hear her say “I need a wee!”. Right, ok “No problem” I start to say. There are toilets nearby and I can do that thing I do whenever you’re at a public toilet and just hover you over it and aim. I’m a bloke, I’m used to aiming urine with inhuman accuracy.

Right as I turned to take her hand I heard a sound that I was sure was a thousand small beads hitting the floor at once. Had she knocked something over? Was there some much-needed rosary beads nearby that had come free of their binding and scattered across the concrete floor?

No. My toddler was pissing on the floor of Costco, right between the books and the Pirate costumes.

My first reaction was to quickly dart left and grab something to put under her. My second reaction was to dart right and grab something. I was f**king dancing here, and she was still urinating with such ferocity that it was splashing back off the floor. She was frozen in a half-squat-half-stand position and I had to admire the strength in her quads to be able to hold that position for so long. In fact, I half considered slapping a price tag on her and trying to fool people that she was a garden water feature.

That was never going to work though, because as soon as I thought she had finished she was looking up at me expectantly, as was Kathryn. Kathryn was being the sensible one as always and at least acting like she was trying to resolve the unresolvable. I knew the laws of entropy though, they dictate that we cannot “unpiss”. It was done.

There it is, in all it's golden glory, ironically looking like a treasure map
There it is, in all its golden glory, ironically looking like a treasure map

The cleanup

I headed towards the tills and hovered awkwardly, waiting to speak to the woman on the till and ask for a mop and some cleaning equipment. I was fully prepared to clean this mess up myself. Typically though, the guy being served was buying enough cigarettes to choke an army, and he was paying in cash, counting his tens and twenties.

I wandered off and found someone else, I explained that my daughter had “had an accident” and I needed some cleaning equipment. “What has she spilt?” the lady asked. “Piss” I answered. Credit where credit’s due – she never even flinched. She laughed it off and said “we’ve all been there don’t worry”.

Fantastic, I was dealing with a rational human here. Unlike Evelyn, who think’s it’s appropriate to wee all over the floor at a warehouse store. I was given some powdered disinfectant and a Wet Floor sign and told to just sort that out and she would deal with the rest. Mortified, I pleaded with her to let me clean it up. She was having none of it though, she would clean it up and that was that. What a legend, well played Costco – some quality staff you have there!

I headed back to Kathryn and Evelyn and I could tell I’d been too long. Before I was even close enough to make out the look on Kathryn’s face I saw that ora around her that screams “you’re dead!”. To be fair, I had waited too long at that first till with Smokey Joe. That entire time Kathryn had spent trying to stop Evelyn jumping up and down in her puddle created by that ultra-long zen-like wee. That, and trying to smile at passers by with pleading eyes that screamed “PLEASE RELATE TO THIS!”. I asked Kathryn to take some pictures as I converted the wee into paste with a few sprinkles of that magic powder. She managed one picture before she hated me too much to take any more. “Fair enough” I thought. My timing could have been better.

Ok I admit, this part was actually quite fun
Ok I admit, this part was actually quite fun

We’re done here

The lady approached and finished the cleanup. After my hundredth “thank you” we wandered off sheepishly and hesitantly. We knew there was nothing else to be done here, but the act of walking away when someone else cleans up your child’s urine is a strange one.

We ended up having dinner at Costco and then heading home. Evelyn looked cute in her pirate outfit too, which was a bonus. I remember reading somewhere how strange it is that we revere pirates. They were, after all, inherently evil and performed such heinous acts – but here we are dressing our children up in their memory. I wonder if, in a few hundred years’ time, we will be dressing our children in Jihad outfits and sending them off to parties with a mock suicide belt around them.

Cutest pirate ever!
Cutest pirate ever!
The cake is almost as big as her head
The cake is almost as big as her head

Oh, and after all this she went as a f**king fairy…

Do you have any similar stories? Leave a comment below.

15 thoughts on “Costco – Evelyn’s biggest portaloo

  1. We had a toilet nightmare when we decided to pop into Ask in Queen’s Square. We’d just sat down and our little one (11 months) did the biggest poo in the high chair, unfortunately the disabled toilets in Ask were out of order so I had to try and juggle a wriggling baby, wipes and a spare nappy to the restaurant next door, all while making sure that nothing leaked up his back or out of the sides.

    When I got back our middle knocked over his glass of orange juice all over the table and was complaining that he was wet, off came his trousers. Then because he was wet, he decided that he needed a wee. Off I went to take him to the loo.

    After trip number 2, our oldest said he needed the loo (too much orange juice clearly!) and, of course, child number 2 had to show him where the toilets were. Picture the scene, a toddler in his pants, shoes and top running through a restaurant while I’m trying to help our other child climb out of his swivelling chair (which incidently is more fun than any food) and keep an eye out for where the sod has run off to.

    Any normal person would either cry or give up, but as a parent you just have to get on and deal with it. No rest, no breaks, no “just 5 more minutes rest”!

      1. Our little thinks it’s fun to poo 5 minutes after we leave on most car journeys. We’ve factored a nappy change into most journeys now.

  2. I absolutely love Costco because of its high customer service standards. This, however, is a powerful demonstration of how high they are! Never had to deal with a public urination incident quite like this, but have quite an amusing tale about vomit.

  3. Oh man, we’re not quite at the potty training phase, but this really isn’t something I’m looking forward to dealing with. Sounds like you coped pretty well under the circumstances. I’m disapointed though that you didn’t find a ‘caution, wet floor’ sign.

    1. Haha it’s all fun and games! A constant “oh god what if she does it now?!” state of mind. I coped well because I forced myself into some kind of out of body experience and convinced myself it wasn’t happening to me!

      I did find the sign, you can just about see it behind me in the picture where I’m sprinkling that fairy dust on the wee-covered floor haha. I wasn’t sure where to put it. The most logical place is ON the wet patch but I don’t think they’d have appreciated that.

  4. I love this!! I have a feeling this will happen to me at some point (by me I obvs mean emily will pee not me ) I think you handled it really well,I don’t know what I would have done….can’t believe you took so pics though!
    And she is a very cute pirate 🙂 xxx

  5. I’m a father myself, 2 kids aged 3 and 4, so I can relate to these stories.

    I’ve not been involved in one of them “pissing on a shop floor” situations, but I’ve been in Asda when Jason (2 at the time) suddenly refused to follow me round the shop. He just stood still at the end of the isle. He had been pretty testing that day. So I took it a bit personal and was refusing to give in. I carried on walking, asking him to “come on JJ. That’s a good boy!”

    He continued to stand there and started shouting Daddy. He knows this pulls at my heart strings but I thought he just wanted picking up and I wasn’t prepared to give in today. They had both tested my resolve that day. Anyway, the Daddy calling got me and I went over and picked him up, gave him a hug and sat him in the trolley. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a mark on my white shirt. Looked at my hands and looked at Jason. Then the smell hit me. He had shit himself! I had just sat him in the trolley and the smell was getting stronger. I knew at that point I had probably squashed it altogether in his pants and it was more than likely spilling from the sides of his underpants!

    Then I had the ‘walk of shame’ past all the disapproving mums in the shop that felt I had needlessly left my child, crying at the end of the store. What made it worse was they now smell that he had had an accident and the rancid smell was following us as I raced through Asda to the toilets with him.

    I’ve always been nervous from that point and always ask if they need a poo before taking them to the shops now!

    1. Hahaha!! That’s brilliant! In your defence though it’s hard to tell an “I’ve shit myself daddy” from a “daddy” really, they sound the same.

      White t-shirt though, and shopping trolley! Ah man that’s so much worse than what I went through but I’m so glad because it makes for an awesome story haha!

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