As many of you know I spent a large part of my summer writing. Poems, fiction, non-fiction, auto-biography, and essays. You name it and I dabbled, jotted and scribed in it. So here is one of my pieces to go out to the public eye. It is especially written to the mother of boys. We love them dearly, but let's face it. From time to time we tilt our head, scowl our brows and wonder "Really?" Please note that this is all in good humor, love and a sprinkling of sarcasm.
I Stepped in the Yellow Ring Less Desired
The possibility of missing water coming out of the faucet as it pours into a glass is slim, lest you are turning your head towards the television to catch the score of the game. Pull a garden hose to a small planter and let is spit life-essential liquid and surely you will get to the roots unless you are startled by a squirrel running across the top of the fence. Thus leads me to the question, how is it possible when nature calls, to stand in front of a porcelain oval the size of a turkey platter and miss? I would like to take aim at demystifying the mystery of the eternal yellow ring underfoot in the bathroom.
There was likely a reason that bathrooms – outhouses – were outside. If you had to go in the middle of the night and were able to amble yourself to the small hole in the ground, chances are, even if you missed, by morning there was no lingering evidence.
Grandma K used to have a sign hanging behind her toilet that read, “If you sprinkle, when you tinkle, be a sweetie and clean the seatie”. Unfortunately at my house, the “seatie” is not the problem. Living in a house with three males, ages ranging from 9 – 38, I have escaped with small emotional injury the escapade of following them into the bathroom. Certainly there has been the buttocks dip in the latrine during the middle of the night when the seat has been left up. Occasionally there is the gift of un-flushed business. But, most common and often, the golden stream left, that trickles down the side leaving small pools in the back corners that move flowingly forward until they meet in the front of the basin to give you the effect of a ring. Perhaps I should have clarified to each of them what kind of golden rings I DO like. So, I am left pondering the whys of how boys miss a target of such large proportions.
Reason 1 - The midnight calling: The urge to release in the middle of the REM cycle can leave a gentleman floundering to the bathroom and not needing to turn the lights on. They reach their hands out in the dark, feel for the coolness of ceramic and hope for the best. Little effort or thought is made, for the main goal is to get back to that dream they just left, of battling in full Jedi attire with Obi Wan Kenobi and Qui Gon Jin. The flush serves as transport through a space worm hole.
Reason 2 - Clean and shiny distractions: When standing at attention in front of the commode, perhaps there is finding that something shiny to stare at that makes the target in front of them suddenly disappear. While I should take this as a compliment of keeping a clean bathroom with shimmering polished silver around the sink and bathtub, it makes me consider adding some kind of flare to the back of the toilet and mesmerize them there.
Reason 3 - Creepy crawly things: I do have to admit that I too am easily diverted from any activity if there is something with eight legs moving within my eyesight. However, I am not one to drop a baby if there is reason for panic. In fact, I freeze or cling. In my house, this has an opposite effect, for if spider, ant, or earwig appear in the vicinity of the white tiles in the bathroom, a sudden sprinkler effect takes place, where even the ring around the basin may be missed.
Reason 4 – Einstein’s lost equation: E=MP2. (Energy = mass & speed of pee). Perhaps Einstein was brilliant enough to figure out the appropriate formula for mathematically targeting the directory into its bowl. However, this principle must have been overlooked when publishing his works of special relativity and Brownian motion. He once stated, “Everything should be as simple as it is, but not simpler.” Maybe this is part of the problem.
Reason 5 – Wardrobe malfunction: Janet Jackson helped bring all this to light about six years ago, but maybe there is more to zippers, buttons, snaps and belts than we realize. There is that element of waiting too long because of a favorite commercial – you know the one where that one guy is walking his dog and he does that funny thing – and that instant of wait goes to an immediate emergency. The potty dance ensues as the fingers are eagerly moving trying to unbuckle, unsnap, unbutton and unzip all in one sweep and just as it is about to be too late, there is no control over the roaring rapids that have just been released through the bladder dam. Damn is right.
So there are many conceivable possibilities of why nature’s call and steady stream lacks gravitational pull towards the can ala flush. There are some mysteries that are certain to remain unsolved and I wave my white bleaching towel in surrender. I will continue to arm myself with blue gloves and scrubbing solvents, washing away the suggestion of shoddy potty training. And – maybe the message my Grandma’s “seatie” sign will read something more along the lines of “Step a little closer to the plate my love, your bat is not as long as you think.”
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