Behind Close Door

Never share a toilet cubicle with your pre-schooler. You want to know why. Read on.

It was just one of those days when we were out shopping in the mall and I needed to pee. I had to bring my daughter, Laetitia, along because if I didn't, she would be asking for the toilet at the most inconvenient timing later on, like right in the middle of a sumptuous dinner. And then my appetite would be ruined.

So we entered the toilet, there was a short queue, we waited for a while and suddenly I was feeling really high tide (I think the smell of the loo must have triggered my bladder). Finally a cubicle was available, I dashed in and felt a little disappointed because it was a squat type not a sit-on one. But I seriously needed to go so I quickly pulled Laetitia into the cubicle, turned around, pulled down my panties, squatted and peed.

It was at this instance that I heard a shriek breaking the silence of the toilet. "EEEKKKK!!... BLOOD! MOMMY! BLOOD!" Laetitia, who was standing behind me, had seen the unthinkable.

I tried to ignore her but she wouldn't stop. "Mommy, your pee pee has blood!" "How come there is blood, Mommy?" "So yucky... Blood! Blood! Blood!"

"OK. OK. Mommy is having my menstruation. I am not peeing blood" I decided to give my three and a half year old, a quick lesson on female reproduction system. "It's just a very natural biological reaction."

"What's men-train-station? Why men-train-station will have blood? So yucky, know." My inquisitive daughter wouldn't stop. I wished that I had masking tape in my pockets.

When I opened the door of my cubicle, the queue of toilet-users was waiting to see the face of this 'men-train-stationing' mom.

Nevertheless, I survived the embarrassment. My skin had thickened up quite a bit after becoming a mother, or so I thought.

Then a few days after, I had to drive Laetitia to school because our regular chauffeur, Mr Hubby, was out of town on a business trip. Our car barely left the condo's carpark when I felt an immense pain in my tummy and had even leak out a fart. I knew then that I could never make it through the horrendous morning traffic to reach my office without shitting my pants, so I pulled over and dashed for our condo's public toilet, with Laetitia in tow.

And there we were in a same toilet cubicle, again. I couldn't possibly leave her alone in the car. But this time, I thought I was smarter because I preamp her of what was to come and made her promise not to speak a word inside the cubicle. She was quiet. I was happy.

When we arrived at Laetitia's school, 15 minutes later than usual, her teacher greeted us at the door "Morning Laetitia, you come late today."

"Ya. My mommy stomachache, then just now she go to the toilet poo poo. So smelly, know." reported Laetitia.

Upon hearing that, the teacher and another parent tried very hard to suppress their giggles. I hung my head lowly in shame.

I regret not learning my lesson the first time.

Maybe, I should really consider carrying masking tape in my pockets.