“To Pee or Not to Pee” or “Seriously, This is What We’ve Come To?”

I’ve always had a shy bladder.  (I know what you are thinking.  “She is seriously taking it there!?  I’m spending my precious time reading about Lauren’s bladder?”)  I’ve never been one of the girls who encourages other girls to accompany her to the bathroom.  I don’t want anyone to hear me go potty.  Call me inflexible but this is where I draw the line.  (And this is where you think “So she draws the line there but not before writing a blog entry about her pee?”)  In fact, I typically maintain the “every other stall” rule.  There is absolutely no need to sit ankle to ankle while doing your business!

After having my tonsils out, when I was in college, the nurses wouldn’t discharge me until I demonstrated I could pee.  I was convinced I was destined to spend the rest of my life in the hospital because the nurse insisted on standing in the bathroom doorway while I went potty.  To make matters even worse, my feet didn’t touch the floor when I sat on that giant hospital potty.  (that’s another potty rule…feet must be planted firmly on the floor…one must have a strong foundation before voiding)  Clearly if I’m awake enough to argue about peeing, I’m awake enough to go home!  Finally, in a rush to end the standoff of the decade, my mom shoved a pillow underneath my feet and made the nurse close the door.  Thank goodness for moms!

By now I’m pretty certain you are wondering where in the world this is going.  (“Lauren, seriously, get to your point.”)  The other day I ran into a store to look for a purse and began to regret my earlier decision to drink a bucket of diet coke from Sonic.  I clearly wasn’t going to be able to wait until I got home.  My eyes were swimming!  I went into the bathroom and was startled to find that it was occupied by a local high school cheerleading squad.  In the south, we believe in being prepared.  This extends to our cheer squads.  Never show up to a game expecting to win if you only have a measly 5 or 6 cheerleaders!  My dad’s rule of thumb is that each school needs at least one cheerleader for every letter of the school.  Otherwise, how can they spell out the school name with pride?  Conway, for instance, appears to keep enough cheerleaders on hand to be able to spell C.O.N.W.A.Y. H.I.G.H. S.C.H.O.O.L. W.A.M.P.U.S. C.A.T.S. C.O.N.W.A.Y. A.R.K.A.N.S.A.S. U.N.I.T.E.D. S.T.A.T.E.S. O.F. A.M.E.R.I.C.A. 2.5. M.I.L.E.S. N.O.R.T.H. O.F. L.I.T.T.L.E. R.O.C.K. A.R.K.A.N.S.A.S.  True story.

ANYWAY…This squad was from a neighboring town that won’t be named (ahem, Russellville).  The cheerleaders were swarming the bathroom.  They were EVERYWHERE!  The stalls seemed to be two deep and there were piles of cheerleaders at each mirror.   As though the universe was playing an evil joke on my shy bladder, the only unoccupied staff was smack dab in the middle of the line.  But what was I to do?  Sonic drinks are no joke!  I took a deep breath and said a little pee prayer.  (Shut up!  I believe in the power of prayer.)  I sat down preparing to (insert disney soundtrack…Let It Go) and I did fine.  I sat there for a moment contemplating this heroic example of conquering all internal obstacles.  I was a new woman.  When, what happened?  One solitary cheerleader began chanting.  Suddenly, like the skies had opened, the entire squad was cheering.  Perhaps they too have shy urinary systems or perhaps it was a strange cosmic coincidence.  And I began to laugh.  Laugh uncontrollably.  I exited the stall, washed my hands, and continued laughing all the way out of the store and to my car.  You see, this wasn’t about pee anymore.  I realized that inspite of missing my Grandpa, worrying about ill family, not feeling confident about financial decisions, and other seemingly overwhelming anxieties I still have the ability to laugh at the absurdities of life.  Absurd events like having a squad of cheerleaders cheer for my shy bladder.

(Note: I successfully got you to read 684+ words about my shy bladder!  Winning!)

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