Potty Talk

My cross to bear in life is a superb sense of smell. Seriously, I don’t know why I’m doing these little doodles when I could have been the most successful sommelier. I always know exactly where my husband has been and what he has eaten – even when he tries to sneak. The other day he came upstairs and I said, “We have skittles? Where are they?” He cannot sneak anything past me, which he is well aware of. So yes, my nose will keep my husband loyal and discover hidden snacks, but I would trade that in a minute for a less superhuman sense of smell that would allow me to continue to function in the face of bad breath, B.O. and perfume. My sniffer is a serious disability, and as such, I’m not sure why it isn’t protected under the law. Perfume should be illegal to wear in public. Period. Or, at the very least, people insisting on dousing themselves in noisome cologne should not be allowed on planes or elevators or other small, confined spaces…

And why must there always be a pine-scented air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror of Ubers? If one must resort to faux-pine scent, what ungodly smells must they be covering up? And I never want to hurt the driver’s feelings by opening the windows, especially when it’s cold out and my need for fresh air would be obvious. So Ubers end up tortuous experiences for me…

Don’t even get my started on the air fresheners used in public bathrooms. The only thing I want to smell in a public restroom is a shit ton of bleach…

Speaking of – the greatest public toilets of all time can be found in the AA terminal of O’Hare airport in Chicago. Unless the plastic seat covering is a lie and the sensor continue to recycle the same loop, there is no cleaner seat out there. In general, I’m a public-toilet-squatter. I know they say you can’t catch the clap from a toilet – but common sense and proximity of parts to germs makes me know this isn’t true. The problem with squatting, though, is the likelihood of dripping on the seat. Which you then have to clean (especially if you know the next person in line will see you exit), which cannot be germ-free. So it is sort of a gamble: to squat, or to clean…

It’s amazing to me that my 2-year-old goes into the closet so she can poop in private, but follows me into the bathroom when I have to poop. In what world should a toddler get more privacy doing their business than an adult?

Published by imworriedmytherapisthatesme

I'm a history-PhD-turned-stay-at-home-mom of three. When I'm not microwaving Trader Joe's meals for my kids, breaking up fights and wiping butts, I like to paint and write. To cope with the endless hours I'm spending with my son doing virtual school, I've abandoned my gouache paints for the more portable, less messy tried but true, paper and ink. While he learns to read to 20 floating heads on his screen, I sit on a tiny chair, at a tiny table pretending to be a productive adult.

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