I have an aversion to public restrooms (PRS). Let me be honest here. I detest public restrooms. I don’t even think detest is the correct word. I get the hebbie-jebbies from public restrooms. My friends say that I have an “iron bladder” because of my refusal to use public faculties. (I know when I’m 50, I’ll be sorry.) I have tried for most of my life to avoid PRS whether at school, work, malls or restaurants unless I’m going to pee my pants. Sometimes peeing my pants is preferable to the deplorable conditions in ladies’ rooms throughout the tri-state area. (I think some people were raised in barns, Yuck, Yuck, Yuck!)
Of course, everything changes when you have a child. The boy loves the bathroom and has since he was first potty trained. I find that if I give myself a pep talk before taking him to the bathroom than my anxiety will not overwhelm me and I won’t be shouting, “For the love of God, please do not touch anything.”
So, imagine my reaction when the boy made a face and announced in the middle of Smokey Bones, “I’ve got to poop.” Guess what, you don’t have to imagine, I’m going to tell you. As with most things, many different things sprinted through my brain in 10 seconds flat.
- Why is he yelling? I really need to get his hearing checked.
- I love being a spectacle. At least the people around us got a good chuckle.
- OMG, what is he going to touch?
- Why is he making that face?
- Is that a high school basketball team waiting for tables in front of the bathroom?
- Teenagers, ugh!
- At least I was done eating.
- I really need to eat slower then at least I can negotiate taking him to the bathroom with the husband.
- He has to poop, so we’re going to be at least 10 minutes if not longer.
- Did the husband bring his wallet so he can pay the bill? I can’t remember.
I must admit the yuck factor in the bathrooms at Smokey Bones was at a minimum. They were relatively clean. (It was 11:45 am, so they had only been open for about 45 minutes.) It only took the boy 20 minutes to do his business. He is slow and stoic in all things, including pooping. I only told him 15 times that he needed to get done, because I was tired of being in the bathroom. At least this time there were no questions about the sanitary napkins disposal area or the baby station. Plus, the boy didn’t decide to throw himself on the floor to say hello to the person in the next stall. Everybody wins, when that happens.
I’m pretty sure that public restrooms will always be disgusting because it all comes down to consideration. People are not considerate of each other or the workers who have to clean up after them. If you make a mess, clean it up — even in a public bathroom.
Everybody poops. It’s what you do with your poop that indicates what kind of person you are.
What lessons do you teach your children?