From December, 2010:

I am currently the head customer service cat-herder at a store that sells housewares and had two other sister stores that sell clothing as well as house stuff, let's call my store "HouseCrap". Call me Jadiepie. Long time stalker, first time submitter.

Been in retail off and on for past 12 years, but this story is from years back when I worked at in college, women's clothing, let's call it "Big City and Company".

A woman comes in with a little boy, maybe 3 years old, in a stroller and proceeds to start picking up clothes and collecting a batch to try on. Normal.

The kid is quiet, sniffling and a little glassy-eyed, but he's quiet and not grabbing stuff, so I'm not concerned.

I go back to check on them 20 minutes later and I notice a smell. The dirty diaper smell. And the kid looks uncomfortable.

I'm waiting for mom to decide to drop the shopping and take the kid home, but no. Ten minutes later, I look over and the smell is stronger.

I think at first that the toddler got some chocolate and smeared it.... but no. Yeah. The kid had diarrhea, it leaked from the diaper and was smeared all over the stroller and the kid.

Kid now looks completely out of it, glazed eyes, just a sick kiddo. Needs mommy to give him a bath, some pedialyte and immodium and let him rest.

So I look at mom.

She's contemplating a series of outfits and has moved to the register. So maybe she hasn't seen the kid.

I speak up: "Ma'am, I think your son is sick".

She glances at him: "He's okay, he can wait."

By now, the employee is taking over the future parent in me, and I'm waiting for stuff to start dripping on the floor, for it to get on merch, just the general foulness of the situation.

So I say "I'd be happy to place those items on hold for you, I'll even hold them until tomorrow (against policy) so you can come back after you take him home..."

Bad idea.

Mom's head snaps up and I get the slitty-eyed look of death.

"He's okay".

No, he's shitting all over my store. You are an unfit parent.

So I ring her up, with veiled looks of disdain, and she leaves.

Our store is across from the food court. After mom leaves our store, I see her across the way walking into the food court. Good, there's a bathroom there. She can clean him up and take him home.

No, She doesn't go to the hall with the bathroom, she stops at the Cookie place and gets a soda and then walks off. With the kid.

Off to the next store We all shook our heads. Should have called DFACS. Horrible.

Oh, and guess who got to put on rubber gloves and clean the floor?

I decided I couldn't deal with this anymore without speaking my piece, so I walk away and leave her to another.

--Jadiepie

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