when i decided at 4-something in the a.m. that i had to tinkle and that my need to tinkle trumped my need to help my baby stop coughing long enough to sleep, i was making the right decision. of that i am sure. nobody wants to wet her pants. nobody wants to ruin a perfectly good rocking chair or rug by urinating all over it.
so i put bbl down in his crib and walked away. much to his dismay.
i could hear his cries as i made my way to the kitchen to see what time it was. i don’t really remember what the clocks on the stove and microwave said. 4-something. i rolled my eyes at how long the night had already been and how much longer it was still promising to be and said something like “oh geez” or “come on.”
i walked to the bathroom, which is right outside bbl’s bedroom. i went in, shut the door, turned on the light, turned around and sat down and let the tinkling commence.
the relief to my poor bladder was immediate. my mind, on the other hand, was not at ease. the muffled sound of bbl’s cries was not the problem.
my peeing sounded odd. i was not alert enough to know what i was hearing. i am not alert enough now, nearly 12 hours later, to understand what happened.
i looked down. what in the world was going on?! why was there a big puddle of wet on the floor in front of the toilet? how could my urine have found its way through the gap between the toilet seat and toilet bowl? such things are not possible. except that apparently they are.
i tried to stop the stream in its tracks. but my p.c. muscles weren’t up to the task. the poor little baby whimpering in the other room did a number on them when he was born; they haven’t been the same since.
after a few seconds, i exerted enough control of my bladder to quiet the room. i then finished the business at hand and proceeded to survey the damage. so to speak.
i’ve already mentioned the large puddle on the floor. but i also discovered that my unders, pajama pants, and slippers had gotten in on the action. lucky them.
bbl’s cries ebbed and flowed while i dealt with my situation.
i used the dry parts of my pajama pants to mop up the pee puddle. i got half of the hand towel wet and wiped over the area (that’s my version of “cleaning” at 4 a.m.) and then dried the area with the dry part of said towel. the floor and toilet still needed a good cleaning, but that would have to wait for the sanity of daylight.
satisfied that the bathroom was in a good enough state of repair for the time being, i took my things to the laundry room. yes, you can go ahead and picture me mooning the empty darkness as i walked.
i crept into my bedroom and retrieved clean and dry underwear and pajama pants and a pair of socks (my feet get cold when i am “sleeping” in the chair in bbl’s room).
bbl was glad to see me again. he didn’t even notice that i was wearing different pants. he just wanted me to hold him. until he didn’t want that anymore a few minutes later.
i am happy to report, dear reader, that we both made it through the night and are basking in the sanity of daylight, none the worse for wear. and nobody peed on the rocking chair or rug.