Piss and Tell

You may think this is a weird thing for me to write about. I think it is too. I still want to write about it, even though I know that I have a student who looks at my blog every day and will probably tell everyone she knows. Hopefully she'll also portray to everyone she knows that it's kind of a funny thing, and not really the worst thing to know about someone. I appreciate honest stories, even if they are a little embarassing.

Last night, around 3 am, I was dreaming about something. It was probably about my class, because that is always when I am needing to go pee. In my dream I walked into the bathroom and sat down to use the facilities. That's when I woke up. Kind of.

Part of me thought, "Ah, whatever. Just finish it." I was seriously mid stream.

I remembered that this thought had occurred to me two other times.

When I was four, I was at a keyboarding class, and I had to go to the bathroom. I couldn't reach the light, so I just felt my way around in the dark, pulled down my pants, and sat on the toilet.

It was then that I realized that I was sitting on the lid. That's when I thought, "Whatever. I have to finish now." When I went back to the keyboarding class I didn't tell a soul. Until now.

Around eight or nine years old I was walking home with a friend from school. It was a good twenty five minute walk, and it was the first time I had walked home. I had to follow this friend so I wouldn't get lost. I thought I could hold it.

At one point he thought we should cut through the woods. By the time we figured out that the whole path had overgrown so much that we couldn't get through, it was too late. That's when I thought, "Whatever. I have to finish now."

I was wearing jeans and there was no way to hide it. I was totally mortified. Here I was, on my first walk home with a boy, and I had wet all the way down my legs. We ended up walking with another group once we got out of our "shortcut", and everyone commented on me peeing my pants. I do have to say I got quite a talking to when I got home. I pretty much potty trained myself before I was two, according to my mother. I don't remember wetting the bed ever. I'm sure I did at least once, but it was never one of those things that haunted me.

So when I woke up, completely, I realized that it was probably not a good idea to finish peeing. I jumped up so I could run to the bathroom.

Now I see that I have grown up. I do learn from my mistakes. Mommy, wow. I'm a big girl now.

Of course, I did leave the house this morning without telling Jake exactly why there was a wet spot on my side of the bed.

Maybe I shouldn't be giving Amaya such a hard time about toilet training.