(i promise, this isn’t going to be gross. relax.)
Most of the time, I have the luxury of all those workers being confined to one floor of the house. It’s not hard to move my stuff to a far room and then stick some headphones on. It’s not ideal, but I can normally time my quick potty trips to line up with when all the workers go outside for a communal smoke break.
Yesterday, it just didn’t work out that way.
There were three painters and they were working on BOTH floors of the house at once. The only room they weren’t in is my master bedroom. They basically won’t set foot in here (my refuge of the day).
Here’s where it gets fun.
They’re painting all the doors and woodwork.
There is only one door in the whole house that has a door knob – the guest bath next to the kitchen. Right now, there’s not even a door on my bathroom (the one inside my bedroom).
There’s a door to my bedroom, but it won’t stay closed without a door knob. Even if it DID stay closed, you can peek through the big hole where the door knob goes.
Yesterday, I had one guy painting the floorboards just inches outside my master bedroom. I had another one painting in the guest bathroom (the one with a door knob).
And I really really really had to go potty.
I had to make an evil potty choice.
The way I looked at it, I had three choices.
- Use the potty in my bedroom, risking a surprise walk-in.
- Use the potty with a door knob, requiring that I look a man in the eye and tell him I want to go potty.
- Drive down the street to the store, risking a potty accident.
Since there’s no direct line of sight from my bedroom door to the “throne,” option 1 didn’t represent a huge risk for inadvertent exposure. I was more freaked out about the painter hearing and smelling things.
I don’t know why, but that seemed way weirder than the second option. I guess I figured that if I told the painter to leave the bathroom so I could potty he wouldn’t exactly stand outside the room and eavesdrop. I assumed he’d go outside and clean his brushes or something.
Still, having to look a man in the eye and tell him I need to potty — that just seems wrong. And I ran the risk of him asking me why I didn’t use a different bathroom. Then I’d have to explain about the noise thing.
Which left me with the third option – driving down the street.
I’m no stranger to making the potty run.
Last March, four days after we moved back into our home (after over eight months of living in a combination of RV and hotel rooms), we discovered that the plumbing wasn’t right.
The volcanic eruption out of the shower drain when I flushed the toilet was our first clue.
We’d just moved home, the kids were traumatized, and I was exhausted. I couldn’t face another night away from home. So, I lived without plumbing for three days while the plumber fixed things.
We got very creative. And I learned where all the best potties are within a mile of my house.
So I had the experience to know one important fact -
I’d waited too long.
After two kids, I know my limits.
It took me about three nanoseconds to decide the humiliation of some strange man hearing me go potty was preferable to public potty failure.
Then I thought about all the stuff the plumber had dealt with last March.
I realized I was being ridiculous.
I had my panties in a wad because I didn’t want people to know I needed to potty.
(the really silly part of this whole story is that the painter in the downstairs bathroom had OBVIOUSLY used it. i walked by a little later and realized he had left the seat up. grrrr.)
I’d say that’s when I decided to put on my big girl panties, but the opposite would be more accurate.
I have to ask – what option would you have taken? 1, 2, or 3?Buffer