Dot writes: on Monday I encountered one of those unforseen parenting problems that occasionally creep up on one. I’d walked to Dalkey with Prawn in the pram – I needed exercise and he had exhausted the entertainment possibilities of his playmat, the flat and his mother – and stopped in at IdleWilde cafe for a drink and a feed. Before starting my smoothie and latching him on I needed to visit the loo. Here arose my problem. How do you go to the loo in a cafe where the toilet is far too small to admit a buggy? And, having decided that the solution is simply to carry the baby in with you, how do you get your trousers done up again with one hand? I couldn’t put him down on the floor (cold, hard, possibly sprinkled with strangers’ wee) or on the loo seat (he might fall off). I tried sitting down and laying him across my lap, but that too felt dangerous and it was too much of a struggle to close my jeans in that position (I did have a baby recently: my tummy is not what it was). I was beginning to think I’d just have to walk back into the cafe with my fly undone , but then by dint of sheer desperation and doing the zip before the catch I managed to save my dignity.
Prawn, by the way, was very good about not wriggling or crying through all this. He can be a right prima donna at times (e.g. grocery shopping) but he rises to the occasion magnificently in a crisis.