Many of my stories percolate for awhile, or I see something and file it away until all the pieces stick. Today was one of those days when stuff started sticking together. You will never guess where this story is heading, I promise you that.
After two horrible days in the basement dealing with grout haze, mild solutions of Sulfamic acid and rubber gloves I decided to treat myself to something special. A full body massage would have been terrific but that requires appointments and lots of moola, so I decided instead to drive the 14 miles to the nearest Barnes and Noble bookstore. It's closer than the Borders and it has about 5 AISLES dedicated to magazines. They must have 500 different magazines and heaven knows, I love magazines! I'm a magazine editor's dream.
I grabbed a stack of decorating, quilting and other mags and headed to a table. Ahhhh. wonderful. Nobody questioning me about what's for dinner or asking for a progress report on the remodeling, just me and my periodicals. I settled on the latest issue of Better Homes & Gardens which contained an entire spread on PIE. What a bargain at $3.49. Then I headed over to the bargain book section and found the most fabulous book called Cupcakes by Pamela Clark. The cupcakes and the photography are so scrumptious you could skip the baking and just eat the book. Do we see a pattern emerging here? Never go into a bookstore when you're hungry.
Around the corner there was a little book entitled, "How to Pee Standing Up - Tips for Hip Chicks" by Anna Skinner. I kid you not. Somebody wrote this book, somebody published it and Barnes & Noble is selling it.
I've never been accused of being a hip chick, and although I envy the short lines at the men's bathrooms I've never, ever wanted to pee standing up. It could have it benefits though, especially if you're dressed to the nine's at a fancy function. Usually that scenario involves a
The book title made me think of something I saw one evening while I was reading Matt's blog. If you haven't read it, there's a sad back story and there is a bit of cussing. Be forewarned. He's a single dad who takes his baby daughter everywhere and takes photos everywhere also. So, I'm reading a post about his day at a Minnesota Twins game. Innocent enough. At some point he needed to change his daughters diaper so he went into the men's bathroom, changed the baby and took a photo. (Click on the story link above and scroll down)
WHAT THE HELL???? Seriously, what the hell is that????
I called out to the Farmer who was dozing in his Barcalounger.
"You guys pee in a trough??" I yelled.
"Wha?? What??" he mumbled.
"Seriously, men pee in a trough??" I screamed back in horror.
"What do mean?" he ventured, a bit afraid of where this was going.
"I'm looking at a picture taken in the bathroom at a major league ballpark and these men are peeing in a trough. I know a trough when I see one. My family are bona fide, card carrying, outhouse using country folk who slopped hogs in a trough. This is a trough, a really long one too. It's like three troughs bolted together."
The Farmer acted as if I'd just fallen off the turnip truck. Yes, I fell off the turnip truck. I vaguely knew about ick, ick...urinals...but I never dreamed that men peed in troughs. Did you know this? Am I the only one in the dark about this fact?
"Do you pee in a trough when you go to the ballpark?" I asked.
SILENCE ....... sounds of crickets chirping as he contemplates my naivete.
"You mean my SON pees in a trough too?"
It was simply more than I could take. I poured myself a gin and tonic and went to bed, hoping for dreams and not nightmares. I was never so happy to be a woman than after that photo. Forget the luck of the Irish, I drew the luck of the chromosome. Hooray for me!
Can I get an Amen somebody?