Bart calls Moe's Bar.
Moe: Hello?
Pause
Moe: Uh, is I.P. Freely here? Hey, everybody, I.P. Freely!
Bart: Bwahahahaha!
So I have a confession. I pee frequently. Not freely, mind you. Just frequently.
This is my father's fault. As a child, every time we would go anywhere, he'd ask me if I had used the bathroom first. In fact, he insisted that I always used the bathroom before I got in the car.
Once I was old enough to start giving this some thought, I asked why.
My father, my hero, said, "Well, once there was a family in a car accident. They all would've survived. Except they didn't pee before they left home so when their car crashed, their bladders all burst, causing them to die. And that's why it's so important for you to use the bathroom before you get in the car, every time. Also, you never know if the place you're going even has a bathroom. Or if you might be stuck in traffic. The longer you go without going, the greater the chances that your bladder might burst!"
At thirty-
ahemthroatclearing-years old, guess what? I still run to the restroom EVERY time we go somewhere, every time there is an opportunity. Because some part of me is still afraid that I might get in an accident and I'll die. Or that I might end up in the Land of No Bathrooms.
Why am I sharing this? This past weekend, Joe and I took a road trip from our undisclosed location. We were on the road for several hours. And at (almost) every rest area, Joe would ask if I needed to stop. "No!" I would proclaim, somehow proud of something so stupid as not needing every restroom (Sidebar: This is actually quite an accomplishment for a girl who has had to stop frequently in the past due to the travel anxiety making me sick as hell).
So proud, so awesome. That is, until we pulled off the highway and onto the country sideroads. Aka,
The Land of No Bathrooms. Which resulted in this tweet:
Tired of being in the car. And of course I didn't have to pee until we left the highway. No rest areas here. Just tractors.
To which the ever-wise Beth from
C. Beth Blog responded thusly:
Yeah, I suppose a farmer would get mad if you peed in his tractor.
Totally true.
So I realize the whole "you're gonna die if you don't pee before we leave the house" was probably just my father's misguided way of avoiding unscheduled pit-stops on the road. Probably it isn't true that your bladder will burst and you will die. However, being so desperate that you resort to peeing on a farmer's tractor? That might not be a traffic accident, but it could still result in death if it makes the farmer angry enough. I guess Dad
is always right, even if it's for the wrong reasons.
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Remember that time a co-worker was always smelling me because I smelled so "lovely"? It was awhile ago but I remember it like it was just yesterday.
