Fifteen years ago, I had my first child. After that, I didn’t seem to notice any changes in my bladder. But after my second child thirteen years ago, I think I sprung a leak.
It doesn’t help that I drink gallons of liquid a day. For example, right now, it is 9:14 am. I have had two large glasses of water (to swallow my hand-full of vitamins and tablets), a can of diet coke, a tall cappuccino from Starbuck’s (same as a small cup of coffee), a bottle of water, and two sips of a 20 ounce bottle of diet coke. More will follow as the day goes on.
I never pass by a restroom, public or not, that I don’t evaluate my bladder. If there is the slightest bit of pressure, I will stop in for a visit.
The problem comes when I am in the car, sipping away. Once I turn onto the road where our house is, the pressure starts. When I pull into our driveway and debate whether or not to get the mail, it ramps up and I pass the mailbox. In the garage, I have to talk to my bladder before I open the car door. “We’re almost there. Less than 50 yards and we’ll be in the bathroom,” I tell the cramping organ. I pause at the steps to squeeze my knees together. The door to the house is opened while simultaneously unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping. I do the knock-kneed speed-walk to the bathroom. Just turning on the light is akin to a baby crying to a breast-feeding mother. The let-down begins, but my pants aren’t down yet! Deep breathing, pants being shoved down while maintaining the knock-kneed press and quick flop on the potty! Finally, relief! Once the panic is gone, I evaluate my clothes to see if a whole new outfit is needed or just undies.
There is something about my chicken house that brings on an immediate need for a bathroom. While my chickens dawdle around the yard on their way to their safe place, my bladder goes from zero to sixty in thirty seconds or less. I confess that, more than once, I have hidden behind the shed, dropped my pants and peed in the woods. So, if you are riding by my house in the winter time just before dark, there’s a good chance you will see a moon rising between the leafless trees.
In my next house, I will have a toilet in the garage and the henhouse!
A movie to remember. . . . . . . .
8 hours ago