Friday
Mar102006
To Pee Or Not To Pee...
THAT is the question.. and such an important one at that. Yesterday found me easily conversing with The Surge... and availing myself of our facilities at the same time. Door open, public wiping, the whole nine.
It all came about very naturally. We were engaged in conversation when the urge made itself known. I'd meant to shut the door but Max decided I wouldn't be closing it this time around. He stuck his giant dog melon in the bathroom to inspect the goings on.
"Oh Max!" I tried to nudge him out, all the while continuing my conversation with The Surge, who was leaning against the bar in our kitchen..
But Max was having none of it. There he stayed, front paws firmly planted on the white bathroom tiles as he watched me unzip, back paws still in the kitchen with The Surge.. Yes, my bathroom opens onto the kitchen.. I can thank some industrious young New York architect from the early twentieth century for that. I actually have two bathrooms. One is the half-bath (sink/toilet) off the kitchen. The other is a half-bath (sink/tub) in the appropriate bathroom spot at the back of the house. Strange, TWO bathrooms, considering how small our apartment is.. but it's certainly fantastic when The Surge is in the midst of one of his marathon shower sessions and I gotsta pee. It works the other way 'round too, the tub coming in particularly useful one drunken morning when The Surge was availing himself of the facilities and I HAD TO GO.
Oh no she didn't. Yes, I did.
So Max wasn't gonna move. But my urine was definitely on the move.. so that's how it happened.. Suddenly, without putting much thought into it, there I was, peeing in front of my husband.. all the while yapping away about whatever it was I was yapping away about.
Before I got married, I declared I absolutely WOULD NOT be one of those girls that performs all manner of bathroom ablutions in front of their betrothed. Peeing publicly was a right strictly reserved for my gaggle of girlfriends, particularly on those drunken nights out with the gal gang. And up until yesterday, I'd kept up my end of the pee pact. I've never seen The Surge pee. The same can't be said for boyfriends of yesteryear, but I'd hoped to maintain some sort of mystique for my husband.. He is forced to observe me in all manner of compromising positions anyway, must he bear unfortunate witness to peeing too?
I'm certainly not embarrassed to pee in front of him.. he's seen me expel all manner of vomit in the most atrocious way possible (filling the cupholders in my truck to the brim on the way home from the FOX Christmas Party 2004) Yes. I did. It's just that.. the pee pact was an unspoken one.. a gallant affording of respect from one spouse to another.
And most certainly if anything MORE than pee needs to be eliminated, I'm all about running the water, coughing strategically to mask any unpleasant splashing that may echo from our very small, acoustic bathroom, reverberating horrifyingly throughout our size small apartment.
But now our silent pee agreement is broken and it was I that pissed it away. Much the same way I can't reclaim my virginity, I can't go back. He saw me pee. Did he care? Of course not. Did it change his perception of me? Nah.. He didn't bat an eyelash.. but still.. I'm just a bit sad. What's next - public tampon changing? Unabashed nose picking? The pee pact was firm ground, a comfortable island in otherwise tumultuous marital waters of Bodily Functions: private vs. public. Now that I've hauled up my anchor I am adrift in yellow waters...
It all came about very naturally. We were engaged in conversation when the urge made itself known. I'd meant to shut the door but Max decided I wouldn't be closing it this time around. He stuck his giant dog melon in the bathroom to inspect the goings on.
"Oh Max!" I tried to nudge him out, all the while continuing my conversation with The Surge, who was leaning against the bar in our kitchen..
But Max was having none of it. There he stayed, front paws firmly planted on the white bathroom tiles as he watched me unzip, back paws still in the kitchen with The Surge.. Yes, my bathroom opens onto the kitchen.. I can thank some industrious young New York architect from the early twentieth century for that. I actually have two bathrooms. One is the half-bath (sink/toilet) off the kitchen. The other is a half-bath (sink/tub) in the appropriate bathroom spot at the back of the house. Strange, TWO bathrooms, considering how small our apartment is.. but it's certainly fantastic when The Surge is in the midst of one of his marathon shower sessions and I gotsta pee. It works the other way 'round too, the tub coming in particularly useful one drunken morning when The Surge was availing himself of the facilities and I HAD TO GO.
Oh no she didn't. Yes, I did.
So Max wasn't gonna move. But my urine was definitely on the move.. so that's how it happened.. Suddenly, without putting much thought into it, there I was, peeing in front of my husband.. all the while yapping away about whatever it was I was yapping away about.
Before I got married, I declared I absolutely WOULD NOT be one of those girls that performs all manner of bathroom ablutions in front of their betrothed. Peeing publicly was a right strictly reserved for my gaggle of girlfriends, particularly on those drunken nights out with the gal gang. And up until yesterday, I'd kept up my end of the pee pact. I've never seen The Surge pee. The same can't be said for boyfriends of yesteryear, but I'd hoped to maintain some sort of mystique for my husband.. He is forced to observe me in all manner of compromising positions anyway, must he bear unfortunate witness to peeing too?
I'm certainly not embarrassed to pee in front of him.. he's seen me expel all manner of vomit in the most atrocious way possible (filling the cupholders in my truck to the brim on the way home from the FOX Christmas Party 2004) Yes. I did. It's just that.. the pee pact was an unspoken one.. a gallant affording of respect from one spouse to another.
And most certainly if anything MORE than pee needs to be eliminated, I'm all about running the water, coughing strategically to mask any unpleasant splashing that may echo from our very small, acoustic bathroom, reverberating horrifyingly throughout our size small apartment.
But now our silent pee agreement is broken and it was I that pissed it away. Much the same way I can't reclaim my virginity, I can't go back. He saw me pee. Did he care? Of course not. Did it change his perception of me? Nah.. He didn't bat an eyelash.. but still.. I'm just a bit sad. What's next - public tampon changing? Unabashed nose picking? The pee pact was firm ground, a comfortable island in otherwise tumultuous marital waters of Bodily Functions: private vs. public. Now that I've hauled up my anchor I am adrift in yellow waters...
Love and Marriage
Reader Comments (30)
Needless to say, my husband has seen EVERYTHING. He has yet to poop in front of me, but I am a no holds barred kind of girl.
Gotta get back to my naked vacuuming now. . . The neighbours love their chubby pregnant girl next door.
Your cat rocks.
One late night, after a really good party I made my way to the Dog Pound for some refueling. The place was packed. A young gal came down the dark steps of the front entrance and stopped in front of the door. Forgetting that the 2-way glass allowed anyone inside to see out, the girl turned around and dropped her pants exposing her bare ass in front of a packed room of about 45 people. She squatted and pee-ed right there on the stoop, in full view of us all. She then pulled a napkin out of her pocket to wipe, dropping it on the ground when she was done.
The horrified guests stopped eating, forks halfway to their mouths. And if that wasn’t bad enough, when the girl pulled her pants up and turned around to check her clothes in the mirrored door, it turned out to be my younger sister Julie.
That’s a true story and one that we retell to torture her every Christmas Eve…as I’m quite sure 45 other people do with their own families.
Sooo....unless the statute of limitations has expired, there's a warrant out for my arrest in the State of Delaware. Apparently, peeing on a fire hydrant in front of a police officer is somehow frowned upon.
Well said. Which is why I urge everyone to install a combo light/fan switch. Then you can pretend not to need the fan if you actually do, and allow others to do the same. "Oh, my, is that the fan? Oh, I see, it's on the same switch. Oh, well, have to keep it on I guess!" (demure giggle)
I think this was a noble thought. A worthy endeavor. I, on the other hand, call my huband into the room while I'm peeing to chat with him. It totally grosses him out. And I run screaming if I see him pee, so it's not like I don't understand his pain.
My dear departed cat used to do the same thing- force his way into the bathroom, and in this house we live in now, there's not a working lock on the bathroom door. So unless you close the door very tightly until you hear a click, the cat would come in for some love. Friends learned to listen for the click. Which turned out to be a good thing, since my daughter likes to join you also and she baby talks the whole time, even handing you tp.
We're a full service bathroom. We come with attendants.
I do, however, get absolutly mortified when "act #2" is interrupted; especially by my mate. I made rules, bribes, plea's, etc...to keep that from happening.
That never stopped my wife from busting in to tell me about something mundane, or, in her mind, important.
No wonder we divorced!
I never understood it.
We used to hang in the bathroom and smoke. I'd take a bath and she'd...relieve herself.
Somehow I never felt clean after those baths.
The bathroom is where our loving, talkative relationship ends. What happens in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom.
Except for mexican food night, then what happens in the bathroom follows us all around for a day or two.
"so that he can dive bomb inside their lowered pants, or he sits on the other side of the door with a threatening clawed paw slashing at you from under the door."
"everyone knows what a fan sounds like. and when you turn it on, everyone knows exactly what you're up to in that little room."
"The horrified guests stopped eating, forks halfway to their mouths. And if that wasn’t bad enough, when the girl pulled her pants up and turned around to check her clothes in the mirrored door, it turned out to be my younger sister Julie."
"We're a full service bathroom. We come with attendants."
"We used to hang in the bathroom and smoke. I'd take a bath and she'd...relieve herself. Somehow I never felt clean after those baths."
"What happens in the bathroom stays in the bathroom"
George: I shouldn't even tell you this.
Jerry: Come on...
George: Well, after dinner last week, she invites me back to her apartment.
Jerry: I'm with you.
George: Well, it's this little place with this little bathroom. It's like right there, you know, it's not even down a little hall or off in an alcove. You understand? There's no... buffer zone. So, we start to fool around, and it's the first time, and it's early in the going. And I begin to perceive this impending... intestinal requirement, whose needs are going to surpass by great lengths anything in the sexual realm. So I know I'm gonna have to stop. And as this is happening I'm thinking, even if I can somehow manage to momentarily...extricate myself from the proceedings and relieve this unstoppable force, I know that that bathroom is not gonna provide me with the privacy that I know I'm going to need...
Jerry: This could only happen to you.
George: So I finally stop and say, "Tatiana, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I think it would be best if I left".
Jerry: You said this to her after.
George: No. During.
Jerry: Oh, boy.
George: Yeah.
Jerry: Wow! So...?
George: So I'm dressing and she's staring up at me, struggling to compute this unprecedented turn of events. I don't know what to say to reassure this woman, and worst of all, I don't have the time to say it. The only excuse she might possibly have accepted is if I told her I am in reality Batman, and I'm very sorry, I just saw the Bat-Signal. It took me 3 days of phone calls to get her to agree to see me again. Now she's waiting for me to call her, and she's(gestures towards woman on phone) still on the phone.
It turns out she thinks it's totally acceptable to pee infront of her partner and its actually a bonding experience for her. I on the other hand would prefer it to be done behind closed doors as I like to believe that girls just dont do this sort of thing!
I have a half bath that opens to the kitchen as well. What's up with that?
I don't think it bothers guys like it does women. They're used to do doing all sorts of things in public that should be left private. It's great that you guys are comfortable around each other to just let go!
I'm here via the Family Life Carnival.
xoxo
I laughed at this one! What is so friggin awful about peeing in front of your mate? I never intended to be one of "those girls" either, but I always end up being one of "those girls" anyway, so I should have known better.
My new hubby is a farm boy, raised in a tiny place in the middle of nowhere...so nature is nature. He expected me to feel free as he did in the privacy of the woods, field, etc. when we weren't in front of other people. I am a suburban/urban raised girl who at worst made use of an alley or (YES) Starbucks cup as needed, and am not afraid of a bush-- although to the guy who didn't understand bushes vs cup, it's a Safety + no Ticket + only you seeing her = thing, I get it.---
This is all new to me.
Fast forward to 6 months later, I am using a pee funnel for behind the car, peeing full-on behind the tractor, with husband who is standing to the side of me, also going, we shower together and both do it there, too, I knew he loved me when he didn't care if I peed on his feet.
As long as people TRY their best to be private and TRY their best to be discreet, I can understand that circumstances don't always allow proper facilities and that we are just all humans that gotta go.
Disgusting? Yeah.
But hey people, I don't fake the funk. Did I mention my hubby and I have also got kids and pets? Kids and pets will always keep you humble.
My daughter at the tender age of 3, told the entire bathroom once that I "was pooping" and that she hoped I would use toilet paper. I did, indeed.