A POT OF BOTHER
Claire Watkins, 41, from Kent, turned away for a few seconds…
When you’re a mum of two young-uns, shopping is hard.
Last November, I braced myself for a trip to Asda with Ronnie, two, and Isla, five. Ronnie needed new shoes. Arriving at the supermarket, I plopped Ronnie in the front of the trolley, strapping him in.
Isla trotted alongside me, jabbering away.
Just then I spotted some potty-training seats to sit on top of the loo.
I’d been trying to train Ronnie to use the big boy’s toilet.
‘This is to help you wee!’ I smiled to my little’un, passing him a loo seat.
As soon as he got hold of it, he wore it like a hat! Sighing, I felt Isla pat my leg. My back was turned for 10 seconds when Ronnie giggled.
Turning back, he was wearing the seat around his neck!
The hole in the potty was tiny – barely even the size of his head and ears.
Somehow Ronnie had squeezed himself into it! Still, I couldn’t help but laugh. I whipped out my phone to take pictures. These will come out when he’s 18, I thought. Only, Ronnie
tried pushing the seat off… And he couldn’t!
His face dropped and he erupted into screams.
I tried to take it off him, but it wasn’t budging.
I tried so many positions and wiggles to get the potty off... No use!
I started to panic, wondering what I could do.
‘Excuse me, are you OK?’ I heard a man say.
It was an Asda worker and his female colleague. ‘Help me!’ I cried. The lady disappeared down the aisle, while the man calmed me down. ‘It’ll be OK,’ he said. In minutes, the woman came back – armed with butter. Slathering the potty, she tried to slide it over Ronnie’s head. Still no luck! ‘Come with us,’ the man said to me. Grasping Isla’s hand, I followed him into the
staff training room.
Ronnie was bawling at the top of his lungs.
Though Isla was giggling!
In the staff room, the woman gave Ronnie a packet of cookies.
Ronnie’s watery eyes blinked and he stopped crying and started munching away.
Laughing, the male assistant presented some pliers.
‘We’ll have to cut him out!’ he said, starting to snip away at the plastic.
And after 10 minutes, Ronnie was free!
So relieved, I thanked my two heroes a million times over.
‘Can I at least pay for it?’ I asked.
But they refused to take any money.
So, with a sigh of relief, I left the shop. Now, looking back at those photos do make me giggle. I just hope that the whole ordeal hasn’t put Ronnie off his potty training!