That's right - I went there. What, you thought I had standards? Have you read this blog before? Anyway, that shit is real.
A little while back, I remember asking my six year old what he wanted to be when he grows up. He responded without missing a beat, "I want to be a girl." My awkward response? "Umm...okay. I'm not sure that's how it works, but if that's still what you want when you get older, we can talk." But it made me remember being asked a similar question when I was right around that age or perhaps a little older. And when I was that age, I wanted to be a boy. I guess gender identity issues run in the family. Seriously, though, I had a terrible case of penis envy. You see, growing up I got kidney infections...a crap ton of them. Because of that, I had a tendency to pee every three minutes. Seriously. Every. Three. Minutes. So even at a young age, I saw the utility of having a penis in situations like that. Because peeing into a bottle is just not logistically easy for a girl. We're just not built for it. Trust me. When I evacuated for Hurricane Rita, I spent 26 straight hours in my car and was forced to desecrate Tupperware containers and that was plenty traumatic for me. Try being discreet peeing in a Tupperware container in the driver's seat in bumper to bumper traffic. Yeah, it's as difficult as it sounds. If I had tried peeing in a bottle, I would still be trying to scrub the smell out of the seats of the car (and probably facing an indecent exposure charge too). I know, I know - gross. It wasn't sunshine and roses for me either.
And I can still remember my dad's loud and exasperated sighs when I would announce that I had to pee. Again. For the 47th time. Two minutes after we passed the last rest stop for the next 60 miles. I think he tried not to be so obvious about it but heavy sighs aren't exactly subtle. It's not like it was much fun for me either, but anyone who's ever had the joy of a kidney infection can understand why I wanted to do anything and everything to avoid them...and I still got them several times a year. And cut a kid a break - I at least had a legitimate medical reason for it (vesicoureteral reflux for anyone who cares to know).
The other time I remember having a serious case of penis envy was when I was on vacation with a school group in France. I had to pee something fierce. Like, about to pee in my pants. I was so relieved to finally find a bathroom. And when I opened the door, this is what I saw.
A squat toilet. I was horrified...and confused. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? How the hell do I use that without peeing on my pants? It was like one of the circles of hell - a bladder so full it's about to burst and a toilet that is nothing more than a hole in the ground. I've repressed all of my memories from that day, but I assume I figured out a way to use the bathroom without wetting myself because my bladder did not, in fact, burst. Either that or I did wet myself and that's why I'm repressing the memory. Either way, this bathroom scarred me for life. Thank God for the USA where we can own the fact that we're too damn lazy and uncoordinated to stand or squat while we use the bathroom - we need options, people! Women just don't have the right equipment for this kind of toilet - may as well just squat in the woods on the side of the road.
And what woman hasn't had penis envy while waiting in the bathroom line at a sporting event or at intermission during a show at a theater? It's hard not to when you've been waiting in line for twenty minutes, trying your hardest not to lose control of your bladder while you watch man after man file in and out of the men's room. It's enough to make women commandeer the men's room (which I have seen happen on more than one occasion). At least I'm woman enough to own it.
And I can still remember my dad's loud and exasperated sighs when I would announce that I had to pee. Again. For the 47th time. Two minutes after we passed the last rest stop for the next 60 miles. I think he tried not to be so obvious about it but heavy sighs aren't exactly subtle. It's not like it was much fun for me either, but anyone who's ever had the joy of a kidney infection can understand why I wanted to do anything and everything to avoid them...and I still got them several times a year. And cut a kid a break - I at least had a legitimate medical reason for it (vesicoureteral reflux for anyone who cares to know).
The other time I remember having a serious case of penis envy was when I was on vacation with a school group in France. I had to pee something fierce. Like, about to pee in my pants. I was so relieved to finally find a bathroom. And when I opened the door, this is what I saw.
A squat toilet. I was horrified...and confused. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? How the hell do I use that without peeing on my pants? It was like one of the circles of hell - a bladder so full it's about to burst and a toilet that is nothing more than a hole in the ground. I've repressed all of my memories from that day, but I assume I figured out a way to use the bathroom without wetting myself because my bladder did not, in fact, burst. Either that or I did wet myself and that's why I'm repressing the memory. Either way, this bathroom scarred me for life. Thank God for the USA where we can own the fact that we're too damn lazy and uncoordinated to stand or squat while we use the bathroom - we need options, people! Women just don't have the right equipment for this kind of toilet - may as well just squat in the woods on the side of the road.
And what woman hasn't had penis envy while waiting in the bathroom line at a sporting event or at intermission during a show at a theater? It's hard not to when you've been waiting in line for twenty minutes, trying your hardest not to lose control of your bladder while you watch man after man file in and out of the men's room. It's enough to make women commandeer the men's room (which I have seen happen on more than one occasion). At least I'm woman enough to own it.
No comments:
Post a Comment