Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Let's talk potty rooms

Not the rooms found in the luxury of your own home, but those in public places. But first, why are they called restrooms? Do we really rest while in there?

Before kids, I was a potty room snob. I tried to avoid public restrooms as much as possible. I just thought of them as nasty places. Some were clean and pretty enough. Like the bathrooms in Shoji Tabuchi’s place in Branson, now those are nice. But for the most part, restrooms are just not a place to go hang out.

While pregnant, my view of restrooms quickly changed. My bladder was not as it used to be. It seemed to become the size of a pea. People warned me that I would have little to no control of my bladder while pregnant, but did I listen? Why no! I told them that was crazy, that wouldn’t happen to me. So when I laughed uncontrollably at something while pregnant, imagine my surprise when I peed in my pants. Just the beginning of my bladder retaliating on me.

But this isn’t a post about bladders, it’s a post about restrooms.

So while I was pregnant, I made it a point to find out where every public bathroom was while I was out and about.

Then you have kids. You first look for bathrooms to change diapers, then they grow up and need to use the potty. But because you already had scoped out all the bathrooms while you were pregnant, you know exactly which ones are clean and where they are located.

When I was little, my mom taught me to squat. She didn’t want my pretty little hiney to touch the seat. She said that you just never knew what was on the seat.

Try squatting while pregnant. That doesn’t work too well. Try squatting after having kids. That doesn’t work too well either.

You can use those flimsy toilet seat covers that are located on the back wall of the stall, but if you wait until the last minute like me, by the time you put those things on, you are in need of changing some clothes.

I’m sure the engineers weren’t thinking of ‘resting’ when they designed the stalls. The handicap stalls are wide enough, but regular stalls are a tight squeeze.

You have those stalls that when you sit/squat, you hit your head on the stall door. Or how about the stalls that have the toilet paper holder on the right side, but all the way to the back. Reaching for some toiler paper is not an easy task.

Then you have those stalls that the tp holder is located on the left side. I’m a righty, I can’t get my left hand to understand that it has to do all the work. So by the time I have to reach for the tp, my body has to turn in all sorts of angles in order to reach across my body, behind me, to the tp holder. Sort of like playing twister in a stall.

But the stalls that I can’t understand what ‘these people’ were thinking of, are the stalls that have the toilet paper holder that only allows you one square of tp at a time. What is up with that? You’d think that they have a shortage of toilet paper. Nothing like sitting/squatting there with your shiney hiney showing, trying unsuccessfully to get more than three squares out while there is a long line waiting for your stall.

So does anyone have any potty stories? Or am I the only weird one?

Don’t answer the second question, I’m afraid I already know the answer.

2 comments:

Kari said...

Laura - when I last left you, you were struggling with blog topics. Now your into potty talk? What's up with that! I wholeheartedly agree with it all. You know my potty stories are way, way, way more than you will ever know, knowing my bladder is the size of a nanogram!

Anonymous said...

Right after I had Hannah we took a family trip to wal-Mart, but Hannah became extremely hungry right in the middle of it all. I was nursing and not skilled at doing it all in public so I had to use the family restroom, because those other stales are just too small. Anyway, I got everything reday, Hannah was locked and loading up when a cricket started hopping towards us, I hate crickets so I had to get dressed back up, take Hannah off (she was screaming) and ask Daniel to kill the cricket. :) Fun times. Ahhh.

counter