Potty Mouth

Randomly this morning, I get a funny text from someone in a panic.  They're stuck at the doctor's office and needing to go.  As in Goooo...

The Big #2.

And apparently, they don't do that in public.  Ever.

This brought me a chuckle and I shared a funny one with her.  Which led me to realize I have many humorous potty stories.

And since I'm pretty much an open book, I thought, "Why not, I'll share it here!"

It is, after all, something everyone has in common.  No matter who you are, how much or little you have, everyone goes.

Tim laughs at me regularly because I keep a schedule.  I won't apologize for my colon keeping a predictable pattern.  As long as I'm home that is.

Although funny to read the text, I could sympathize with the sender because I know how it feels when you need to go and don't have the facilities you're accustomed to.  After years of hotel stays for work, I can relate; because anytime my routine gets off kilter, I come down with a case of traveling constipation.  But, my tummy knows the instant I return home.

The Poop Rock

Noah shares my privacy need for a privy.  One year, when we went camping and actually roughed it (think boat, tent, private island), he was panicked at how and where he could make a deposit.  Tim helped us build a makeshift potty, lovingly referred to the "poop rock" for the remainder of the trip.  It had a comfy seat, because who can squat comfortably and accomplish anything.  And a handy stick to hold the TP.

Even if not #2, I've never been a fan of going outdoors.  My squat always fails and inevitably splatter occurs.  Yet, after two babies and four decades, my bladder is finding it more difficult to just wait.  Especially now that I''m in the business of making home visits.  My body knows I'm in a house, yet I can't use the toilet.  And living in a rural area, there are only so many places to stop.  With plumbing at least.  As such, this was my first year to use an actual outhouse.  It wasn't as traumatic as I expected.  The scariest part was kicking it prior to opening in hopes of ridding the shack of rodents, or worse snakes!

Road Trip Runs

Spring Break 2009, was our first vacation after losing Austin.  Not even five months after we lost him, we wavered many times at not going anywhere; but, on some level, something pushed to us go. Purposefully, we picked a location we’d never been to and one close to home, in case we changed our minds in the midst of it.

Being so worried about us getting through it though, I literally made myself ill and we had to stop at every. single. exit. so I could use the restroom. By about the fourth or fifth time, I began feeling guilty, figuring the stops were ruining our trip but the guys began to laugh. Then I did too. Pretty soon we were making potty jokes at every road sign and Noah was eager to count how many toilets we’d see in one day.  We all three sat in the truck rolling in laughter about my explosive intestinal issues.

Not wanting to leave anyone out in the family during this share-fest, I cannot forget about hubby.  Especially since he has one of our funniest potty stories.

Hot Pants

Tim's joined the fire department when he was 18.  Other than a forced hiatus, he's given over 30 years of service.  And oh, the stories he could tell.  This is one of our favorites, better told by him but I'll do my best.  

Being on call 24/7, you have no control when you'll be called out.  Or, when you need to go.  

This didn't always mix well, especially during the season of Tim's gallbladder troubles.  If you've ever suffered, you'll know that when doody calls, you must answer.

At the scene of a house fire, it hit.  Though Tim was in the midst of helping tear down a kitchen ceiling to to ensure the flames were extinguished, he had no choice but to make an exit.  Knowing there was a bathroom nearby from the walk-through, he made a dash for it.  I can only imagine the shifting of air packs and bunker pants to accomplish that task!

In his words, "I poop on myself for nobody."

And yes, they saved the house and contained damage only to the kitchen.

Random Funnies

It has been one of those Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad weeks.

There are days when I can think that pretty much sums up life for me.  Because I have undoubtedly had more than my fair share of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things to happen to me and my family.

And knowing this, it is so easy to give in, give up, or lose hope.  I have to remind myself of the good that overshadows the bad.  God has blessed this life, this I know.  Any good has come from Him.  

But on those THNGVB days, even knowing the promise of my future, I sometimes need an extra dose of happiness.  Searching out the joy is what keeps me putting one foot in front of the other some days.

When I'm having an Eeyore moment....

I have to find the good...the happy...the JOY....the funny.

Maybe you're having an Eeyore rainy day too?  If so, have a laugh on me.  Or five.

1.  Good things come to those who wait....?

This faded and stained collage contains photos of me through the school years.  From pigtails to ponytails...bad perms...my "black Robert Smith of the Cure phase"...and hair so big it takes up 1/2 the frame..all the way to senior year. 

 Ahh, the memories!  I wouldn't consider myself cute, even in the early days.  My 2nd grade photo looks like one of those old western photos restored to color.  Did my horse just die?  3rd grade...apparently refugee hippy was in style.  4th, I look like an old school teacher or nun.  Seriously?  Lace!?  Mom, what were you thinking?!  Where did my wardrobe come from, Sue Heck, from the TV show "The Middle"?

Not that I could ever have entered a beauty pageant, at least I ended decent in my senior photo.  Geez.
 

2.  Can you spare a square?

Everyone has funny bathroom stories.  Mine and the other lady involved probably differ a bit, as maybe hers seemed a little less funny, more traumatic.  

I don't really recall where I was but, against my usual better judgment, I entered a stall without a thorough check and sweep to sit right down for business.  Once already in the act, I realized there was no toilet paper.   I am not a shake and dry gal.  To my relief, someone entered the next stall.  In the nicest way possible, I asked the lady if she could spare some paper. 

No response.

"Excuse Me?"  I said a little louder.

Still, nothing.  Not even the sound of tinkle.  But I can see her feet so I know she's there.  Maybe she's shy, or hard of hearing, or reaallly concentrating.  So, I go to tap on the wall between us.

In doing so, my hand hits the "intimates" trash can that is shared between the two stalls.  I'm guessing it was hanging on a wing and a prayer, as I swear I barely touched it, but it goes flying off the wall.

And into her stall.

She's screaming now and there is a gaping hole between us.  Seeing her bare legs was enough for me to decide I'd dripped dry by this point.  I apologized profusely and got the heck out of dodge, not even stopping to wash my hands! 

3.  Where'd that come from?

On our wedding day, we had cute little mauve packets of birdseed for our guests to throw at us as we exited the building. 

Being the animal lover I was, I remember researching it (way back before Google so it was probably word of mouth) and learning that the commonly thrown rice was dangerous for birds.  Bubbles were too expensive for these young newlyweds, so I opted to make my own packets with pink mesh and a pound of seed.

The thought was nice, envisioning a made-for-tv-moment of beautiful birdseed scattered across our paths.  Little did I know those pesky, tiny little things fly everywhere.  Coming out the door laughing, I ingested more than a mouthful.  My cleavage did as well.  I felt like I was digging out birdseed from every nook and cranny for days.  I'm sure someone has a photo or two of me spitting on the front steps of the church! 

Eight months later, I was at my grandmother's house for a visit when my ear started hurting.  It felt like a bug was inside it so I go to dancing and shaking my head around her living room.  Reaching my finger in for a scary scoop, I pulled out - you guessed it - birdseed.  8 MONTHS LATER!

4.  Peek-A-Boo

Back before the many falls and motorcycle wrecks, I had strong legs and good knees.  In one of my very first "real" jobs at the college, we were working on a project that required me to be in the floor.  Thinking back, I honestly don't know why me and the Director of Education were crawling around in this classroom.  I mean, it wasn't even to dig up files from the vault, but for some reason we were. 

I must've not known the events of the day because I was in a gingham sundress and heels.  We were facing each other with large papers or poster board on the floor.  I went to scoot back and get up when my heel caught in the back of my dress.

RRR-IIII-PPPPPPP!

I knelt there staring at my supervisor, wide-eyed and embarrassed.  His face was just as red.  I was scared to move, not knowing what damage was behind me or how much of my dress was left.  After a long dramatic pause we both started laughing.  So hard that I was afraid I'd shake the remnant of the material right off of me.  Once finally composed, I made him close his eyes AND turn around while I assessed the damage. 

Feeling like a dog chasing his tail, I spun around trying to see behind me.  With my hands I felt my way down my backside, thankful to feel material until almost my calves.  Knowing I wasn't going to moon my boss, I started laughing again and we fell back into the floor.  Later that day a stapler became my friend as I mended it well enough to get out the door and home. 

And last but not least, a story I've told before but is oh, so funny...

5.  The time I tried to ride a cow...

These laughable moments brought to you by Me.  :)