Thank God I’m a Country Girl.
Growing up in the country taught me to be resourceful. When things go wrong out in the sticks you can’t just hop in the car and go around the corner to pick up the things you need. You figure out how to solve the problem by making do with what you have for the short term…that’s southern engineering. Being a country girl also means you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty. It just comes with the territory.
All four of my sisters and I went home to the ranch last weekend. It was Homecoming in our hometown of Jayton, TX, (Population: 500 and some change) and an excuse for our family to get together for a mini family reunion. We return to the same house we grew up in – and the only home I know. It’s a four bedroom, three bathroom ranch house about 15 miles outside of town. As with most places in the boon docks, there are never ending issues that tend to arise. This go-around…plumbing problems.
With 11 people at the house all weekend, we were instructed to not flush toilet paper in the back bathroom or in Daddy and Linda’s bathroom, but to discard the paper into the wastebasket instead. Until a professional could get out to fix the issue Daddy wanted to play it safe – especially in a house full of women who he believes use way too much toilet paper. Apparently we should be able to get the job done with three to four squares, but that’s a whole other story.
I was reminded of the request on Friday afternoon as I excused myself from our family catch-up session in the living room and walked to Daddy and Linda’s bathroom to pee. As I shut the bathroom door I noticed someone had already peed in the toilet, but didn’t flush it. If it’s yellow, let it mellow…we’re also water conservationists. I sat down on the toilet, relieved myself, wiped and dropped the toilet paper in the toilet. WAIT!!! Johanna, you were supposed to put it in the trashcan! I stood up and stared down at the toilet paper swimming in the bowl. My eyes shifted between the trashcan, the flush handle and the ball of toilet paper taunting me from the bowl. What’s going to happen if I just flush it? Is the toilet really going to overflow? Am I going to make things worse? A city girl would have just flushed the toilet and walked away, but not this country girl.
I raised the toilet seat, reached my hand down into the pee water, fished out the ball of toilet paper, squeezed out the liquid and tossed the ball of mush into the trash. I quivered a bit at the realization that I didn’t know whose pee besides my own had been in that bowl. I scrubbed my hands in the sink (the soap was anti-bacterial) and marched back out to the living room. I needed to know whose pee had been on my hands, but wasn’t sure I wanted to share my story. In my mind it was going to be okay if the pee had been that of one of my sisters. I’m not sure how I rationalized that in my mind, maybe it just didn’t seem as gross if the pee came from someone I’d shared a bed, bath, food and drinks with my entire life. After quizzing the group and finding out that Buffy, my stepsister and best friend of 33 years had used the restroom before me, I took center stage and proudly told the tale of how I took a #1 and then heroically took one for Team Nuding.
After reading this humorous blog post I kept trying to remember if I touched your hands or if your hands touched me anytime during the homecoming festivities ;)* I enjoyed the blog post and laughed out loud when I read it. Oh the blessings of growing up in the sticks!