Friday, January 23, 2009

Daisy's sleepover party last weekend went pretty well, by which I mean that no one died on our watch. As for the kids actually sleeping? Well, not so much. One of the kids was too scared to sleep with the lights out, so the room was super-nova bright. Not ideal sleeping conditions even discounting the yammering that went on all night.

Kids. Pffft.

Here's what amused me most though. Some of the 9 year-old girls that Daisy invited had never met each other. The friend from piano lessons, for example, had never met Daisy's old friend from preschool. However, within 30 minutes of meeting, one accompanied the other to the bathroom. I overheard them talking on the way there. The old friend from preschool said, "Yeah, I've learned that when I'm farting a lot like this, I need to go POOP!"

And off they went.

Decades of life on this planet have taught me that women like to go to the bathroom together. I naturally assumed they spent their time in there perfuming each other and having tickle fights. I don't think that's what these kids were doing though. I think one of them was taking a smelly dump and the other one was keeping her company.

Why do you women do this? What is it about excreting waste that makes for a fun social activity? Is it a game like charades? "Sounds like...*grunt grunt* PLOP!"

In my entire life it has never occurred to me to take a buddy along to the bathroom, not when I was 5 or 25 and not when I'll be 50.

Allow me to illustrate. Last night a bunch of guys from work went out for beers. At one point, one dude went to the bathroom (alone!), came back, and we had this conversation:

Dude: That was weird.
Me: What?
Dude: There's a stool in the bathroom. Not like the kind of stool you poop, but like a bar stool.
Me: In the bathroom? Weird. Maybe it's the male version of the couch that they have in ladies rooms.
Dude: Yeah, but it was right in front of the urinal.
Me:' sit on it... while pissing?
Dude: Yeah.
Me: Did you?
Dude: Nah.

Dude2 listened to this story.

"I'm trying it!" he exclaimed, and popped out of his seat to go check it out (alone). He came back 2 minutes later.

Me: Well? Did you sit on the stool and pee?
Dude2: I couldn't.
Me: You couldn't?
Dude2: I tried, but it was too weird. It would be like trying to take a dump at the dinner table. My brain kicked in and said "You don't pee on a stool." Too many years of conditioning against that behavior. It just wouldn't work.

Dude3 mulled this over for a bit and then launched his own investigation (alone). He returned shortly thereafter?

Me: Well? Did you sit?
Dude3: Yes. Yes, I did.
Me: How was it?
Dude3: It was fantastic.

That was all I needed to hear. I made my way to the bathroom (alone) and took the bar stool out for a spin. I wouldn't say it was fantastic, but it was something different. Probably what was most interesting was keeping the aim steady while I was giggling. I succeeded.

I think that bar will be our new after-work drinks destination. More importantly, however, did you notice what all those trips to the bathroom had in common? They were done alone! No bathroom camaraderie. No splash fights. No "oh, let me hold that for you". Just solo peeing, as God intended.


Lola said...

Not all women appreciate company - I don't.

Working in a shared-toilet environment has deeply affected you, I can tell. You should take a look at the proportion of your blog posts about toilets. That's what men do: write about it and enjoy it sencond-hand, while women enjoy the first-hand experience together. Except me. I don't.

Or else it's Pablo's influence. That's guy's dangerous. But somehow lovable.

Mike said...

Lola, would you rather I wrote about the part of the workday where I sit at my computer and type? I think that's the less interesting part, but perhaps I've jumped to that conclusion too hastily.

Lola said...

That's interesting too! I had no idea that porn could be so intriguing, and Mr Andy was very envious of a company that isn't allowed to make a profit. If only his was like that.

Karmen said...


I would like to say how much I have enjoyed reading your blogs! My friend *who has never commented... she says shes a reader not a participater... HI SARAH* turned me to your blog .. its wonderful and a great pick me up during the day... although I do have to explain to my boss why I am laughing out loud to myself in my office every few days. Thanks for the laughs!!

Mike said...

Lola, Mr. Andy can stop being jealous later this year if we don't get some more funding or find the elusive pot of gold at the end of the Internet.

Hi Karmen! That's very kind of you to say. Now I'm inspired to go do something blogworthy tonight. Or maybe I'll just watch some TV. Either way. Do say hi to nonparticipating Sarah for me.

meg said...

My middle daughter Mary was a 'failure to thrive' child and #2 had ALWAYS been an issues for her. She had a bacterial issue in her gut, sussed out by a great doctor at Stanford. Our favorite sayings are:

"Poo poo and peeps are friends"
"Poo poo and gas (we don't use the f word here) are friends"
"I made a poop and peeps sandwich!"

Weird around Easter Peeps but whatever.

Here's the big secret about chicks going to the bathroom in groups. We talk about YOU. How it's going, what's pissing us off about you, etc. Just a little insight.

meg said...

I have the Big Birthday Party tomorrow. Pray for me.

Blaine said...

karmen are you talking about sarha in toronto CAN ... east end... works in radio?? if so.. she turned me on to this blog as well from her show!! i have thanked her for it... awesome suggestion.

oh. sorry. hi Mike. great blog! love it.

Mike said...

Meg, in your house the f-word is fart? So, do you let your kids say the word "fuck"? And good luck with the sleepover. You probably don't actually want me praying though, since I think that would just elicit a big guffaw from the guy upstairs.

Blaine, somebody mentioned this dumb-ass blog on the radio? Did they get fired for it?

Blaine said...

Mike. Yes she did. She was going on about how it made her laugh and it was among her favourite blogs.

Mike said...

Crazy. The next time I'm in Toronto, I'll bring a pen to sign autographs.

Pilaf said...

Pooping, much like introspection, is fully actualized in solitude. This is why men like to poop alone -- it is a time for reflection. The sanctity of a private bowel movement feeds ones soul.

Yes, I recognize the dichotomy in suggesting both eating and excreting can take place in the same event but I lean towards a more yin-yang explanation. For me, this act is one of life’s few complete moments.

It is the myth of the phoenix (turds are shaped like grubs) where the newly comfortable and comforted being steps from the throne -- arising from the ashes to be born again.

Pooping is like spring (more manure is sold in spring than any other time or year -- think about it), baptism (there is a lot of shit in that too) and birth ("dropping the kids off at the pool").

Shitting and redemption.

Ladies who do not understand, please respect the male sanctity, nobility and grace that flow from this act of creation. Understand the vulnerability in this deeply emotional time of renewal.

Gentlemen -- know that this is one of our grandest differences from the fairer sex and accept that when women create life they have some inkling of our brush with the face of God each and every day.


meg said...

Well we have three girls. So the S word is "Shut up". My girls will get upset if someone says butt instead of bottom. Fuck is the "F Bomb" and is reserved for "Very Special Occasions". Makes it more fun to say anyway :0 My 17 year old has said it under her breath from time to time so it's not like it's never used around here.

No sleep over. She is too young for that (turning 7). I'm too old for that anymore, did that enough with #1. We pays the money they go to the gym and tumble fly around and eat cake and our house stays clean. Except somehow we got roped into the whole family coming over after for pizza. I hope they don't sleepover.

Yeah, I'm atheist now, but still ask for magical wishes from time to time :) It was meant as a little sarcastic ;)

Mike said...

Meg, understood.

Pilaf, mostly understood.

carey said...

My question is if they had stool-size seat protectors.

Mike said...

Carey, they didn't have to. We're not taking our pants off, just unzipping. The only question here is how far do you put the stool from the urinal.

yajeev said...

just to play devil's advocate, are you sure that the stool was not actually for a friend? so that when two people go to the bathroom together, the one that isn't being, er, productive, can be comfortable?

Mike said...

Yajeev, I doubt it. First, you know that men don't go to bathroom in packs like women do. Second, the stool was pretty close to the urinal, so unless it's a close-confines spectator sport, I think it was for the pisser himself.

yajeev said...

was the stool attached to the ground?

Mike said...

Yajeev, nope, I was able to move it to match my preferred urination arc.