...not when she has to.
My daughter learned this the hard way at the theater on Saturday night. Upon consideration sometime during the first act, she decided that just wetting her pants was preferable to disrupting the audience by climbing over knees to go to the restroom. I had no idea until the intermission when an usher appeared with a roll of paper towels to mop it up.
[Insert mortified groan here.]
I don't know about the rest of you out there in Blogsville, but this brought back a number of uncomfortable memories - I was a habitual pants-wetter as a small child. Always too busy to remember to go or too embarrassed to ask a strange grown-up where the bathroom was.
My horrible, much-older brother would call me "Urine Crotch". (Good heavens, a repressed memory. I'll need a shrink, now.) I remember that I didn't know what "urine" meant; it sounds like "you're in" to me. I spent sometime thinking, "I'm where? I'm in Crotch? I thought this was called Wisconsin!"
Who would ever guess that this would be my legacy?
7 comments:
LOL Ah yes....can feel your embarrassment. Have been there. My girls recently are pretty good about this now, though....in fact my younger one always asks, "Will there be a bathroom there??" If there is, she will surely visit. We tease her that she just likes to "explore" different bathrooms. She denies this, of course.....yet spends many minutes in each bathroom of every institution we visit!
Oh, only if men could understand this whole concept. I'm often teased that I know where to find a restroom every where we visit. Perhaps I also have suppressed memories from my childhood
It happened to me once or twice in school as I was too scared to ask the teacher to excuse me.
My neice when she was small asked to be shown the rest room when she visited a new place...she wanted to make sure it was clean.Her mom had to explain this to her hosts.
Oh that's a terrible story! I have two older brothers though, and it sounds like something they would have done to me! I absolutely loved your answer to the Club question on The Center For Improved Living. Thanks for supporting Emerson, I used to work for them so I get really proud of their success!
Talk about repressed memories! You reminded me of a time in the fourth grade when I was so afraid to disrupt the old harpy school librarian, that I stood clenching my thighs in utter misery until finally losing control. I just needed to check out a book! Couldn't she have set her ruler down long enough to see that?!
Worse... the restrooms were literally next door to the library. But in utter humiliation, I took my checked out book, having left a puddle in front of the librarians desk, back to class where I finished my day in wet blue-jeans. I have NEVER been more embarassed in my life!
K
P.S. I really enjoy your TCFIL comments!
Ohmigosh, poor S. and poor Mom! I guess I'm fortunate that the only time I've done that has been when I was dreaming I was on the toilet ... so it was always in my bed! It happened a few times as an adult, too!
I like some of your word coinage ("Blogsville").
Interesting post, but TMI!
(Too Much Information).
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