Potty in the Louvre

I haven't had the chance to sit down and tell this story. Some of you may recall that I promised to tell it in an earlier post. Well hear it goes...

The Louvre is big. I know people tell you that, but until you actually visit it is hard to appreciate the enormity of it. I know I certainly did not.

We were walking in the large hall with works by the Italian Renaissance masters. There were plenty of pictures of noblemen in formal poses, religious scenes, etc. all done in rich browns and reddish tones. During the long walk along the 200 yards or so, i was asking B things about the paintings to keep her engaged. "What color is her dress? What instrument is he playing? Do you see the doggie?" Somewhere along the way though, B fell asleep.

B sleeping was a to become a reoccurring theme at the various museums we would visit. Amy and I learned to appreciate it because it meant we could take our time and not worry about her getting restless.

So with her down for a stroller nap, we wandered through some more areas: Gallerie d'Apollon where you can see crowns used by the French monarchy, and Egyptian artifacts from the New Kingdom.

After about an hour and a half, B wakes up among the mummies and sphinxes. We immediately ask her if she needs to go potty. Bleary eyed, she insists that she does not. This concerns us, because it has been at least 3 hours since she last went. We have only just before the trip stopped using pull-ups at naptime. We asked again and she confirms earlier answer.

Mom and I decide to check the map anyway start heading back. As I started this story by saying, the Louvre is big. It is also old, which means that bathrooms have been added during various expansions. They never seem to be nearby. The age also means that you may need to traverse several stairways to reach your destination. Not an easy thing to do when you have a little girl in a stroller.

So we started meandering to what looks the nearest bathroom, back toward the Gallerie d'Apollon. All of the sudden, B turned to us with an urgent look in her eyes. "I need to go potty!"

We quicked the pace and arrived at our destination. Our expectation was that we would find his and hers rooms with multiple stalls, you know...a bathroom. We expected too much. There was a closet that had a single toilet inside. The door had been cut into the wall so that unless you were looking for the sign, you might miss that it was there. It was a secret bathroom.

But that was not our problem that day. Outside stood a line 6 people deep. We turned to B and asked, "Sweety there is a line, can you hold it?"

Her face quickly soured. "NO! I...NEED...TO...GO...POTTY...NOW!"

I will never forget the look on the people's faces. They turned slowly to look at us, unmoved by her impassioned plea. Perhaps it was the language barrier, but then some things are universal. I knew immediately that we would get no favors from them.

I scooped B out of the stroller and started jogging back toward the large stairway we had passed. As I left I shouted back to Amy where I was going and to take her time catching up. The map showed a bathroom at the base of these stairs we had passed. We had ruled it out earlier because of the stoller, but now the situation had changed.

"Just wait for us at the top."

B was upset and confused. Upset about her full bladder. Confused that she was being carried like a football as daddy shuttled past priceless artifacts from King Ramesses or Amenhotep or whoever.

"Are you gonna hold the peepees for daddy?"

"Yes daddy."

On the way downstairs B asks, "Are we going down steps?"

"Yes, sweetie and if you hold it until we get to a pottie, I will let you walk back up."

At the bottom of the long stairway, tucked around the corner we found a more traditional bathroom setup. I hurried into the men's room, only to find that the toilet seat was missing in the stall!

What do I do? What do I do?

Pants down. One arm under the knees. One arm around the shoulders. B hovered over the toilet.

"Go ahead sweetie."

"Are your holding me?"

"Yes, sweetie. Go peepee."

After she was done and had washed her hands, we headed back to the stairs. There were a lot of them. Big, wide, marble ones that took her two steps to traverse before stepping up again. We made our way up slowly and deliberately. As we rounded the landing at the halfway mark, we saw Amy at the top looking down.

"I was wondering what was taking you guys so long," she called out smiling.

A minute or two later I was close enough to explain my promise on the way down. Like I said, there were a lot of steps. But I didn't count them, because it didn't matter. B had made it to the potty.