The Splatter Factor

Let me start at the beginning. Michael and I decided that it would be a great idea to leave San Mexico oops I mean San Antonio around 7:30pm and just drive through the night. The basis for the idea was good but the reality was a whole other thing. We figured that Lauren would sleep most of the time while I drove the car and it would be cooler so Michael’s jeep wouldn’t overheat while pulling the trailer, and there would be less traffic. The reality is I am way to old for that all-nighter shit and road tripping with Michael is way too reminiscent of road tripping with my father. Road tripping with dad consisted of very few bathroom breaks. However, when my little brother and I would start fighting, he would occasionally offer to pull over the car (this was never good, you never wanted dad to pull over the car). We would either get the offer for him to pull over or he would simply start flailing one arm behind him while keeping one hand firmly on the wheel, meanwhile my brother and I would be pinned to either side of the car being sure to stay out of the way of that flailing arm. The crazy arm isn’t the part about road tripping with Michael that reminds me of dear ol’ dad, it’s the minimal bathroom stops. Unlike my father, Michael will actually pull over but not without giving me the disappointed face. I hate that face. Michael is hardcore; I’ve even seen him pee in a big gulp cup while driving. I’m just not that talented. I need a place to squat be it a roadside port-a-potty, or a patch of grass behind a bush, I just need a place. I thought any old place would do until the night we drove from San Mexico to the great state of Oklahoma. Anyway, we started out on the open road at 7:30pm as planned and about one bottle of water and two energy drinks later, I was about to have an accident on my pretty leather seat. I radioed Michael and let him know that I “kind of had to pee a little, but I could hold it for a while if he needed me to.” I tried not to let on to the severity of the situation in hopes of avoiding the disappointed face, or in this case, the disappointed voice. Thankfully for me his check engine light came on shortly there after and I rejoiced as I realized that we were going to have to pull over, it wasn’t my fault, and I could quit holding myself and just find a place to go wherever we stopped. He stopped right on the side of the road. Not a bush, a descent sized shrub, or any kind of an obstruction anywhere in site. I couldn’t wait, I had no choice, I grabbed one of Lauren’s butt wipes and hopped out of the car. Let me just say that I am not afraid to squat in the woods, I like to hunt and fish so peeing in the woods is nothing new to me. But as I stood on the side of the road looking for a “place” I realized that the grass was knee high and it was completely dark so I had no way of scanning the chosen area for bugs or rodents. Bugs on my special places is probably one of my greatest fears so after taking careful inventory of the situation, I determined that the best place was right where I was standing, on the asphalt. While peeing outside was nothing new, peeing on asphalt and the “splatter factor” where. I yanked down my pants, butt wipe in hand, and started to go. Wearing only cute flip-flops and capris I instantly felt moisture on my feet and ankles. I couldn’t stop so I just tried to readjust midstream to no avail. I gave up and decided I was just going to have to pee on myself as I watched as little river begin to flow from between my feet. About that time I looked up to see my husband standing in front of me with his hands on his hips. I said “could you please not stare, it makes me uncomfortable.” He just stood there looking at me and finally piped up with “wow, you really had to go.” I thought to myself “no, really I am just an exhibitionist with a flair for golden showers, of course I really have to go but you staring is not helping.” In an effort to maintain harmony between us on this long night I just smiled up at him and said “yep.” I was reminded of the “splatter factor” the rest of the way to Oklahoma as I drove on through the night waiting for my flip-flops to dry and trying to decided if they were worth saving or if I should just give up and throw them away. Thankfully I saved them because the next day Michael slipped them on to run outside for a second, now it was my turn to point and laugh. I stood there giggling as I casually mentioned that those were the flip-flops I peed on.