What's Protocol?

We were at the local Old Navy the other day. Ella is tearing up and down the aisles as her frantic father tried to keep pace. I stood in line waiting to make a return. Already a retailers dream, right? No doubt the sales associates already had us pegged as trouble. Just as I make my way to the front of the line, my parenting radar detects the faint but frantic words of a little girl, "Potty! Potty!". Before either Jerry or I could appropriately react there was a large puddle forming at Ella's feet. This was no tinkle. What were we to do? Is it bad that we simply skipped out, more accurately ran out? I can imagine images of our family taken from the security camera hanging up in the employee lounge with the words, "Do Not Admit" written boldly across our mugs. Can we ever return or is internet shopping our next logical step?