My Wife, her Bladder, The Playboy Mansion, and Baby Shower Strip Poker

So, I was searching around and came across this blog post on Scary Mommy

called Dear Husband: The Bathroom Is Not A Man Cave written by Rita Templeton from her fabulous blog, Fighting off Frumpy.

Her post dealt with her husband using his visits to the bathroom as a respite from immediate and urgent household chores and duties.

My response;

We are DINKs, but we have a dog

My wife and I have no children (and that’s okay). We are DINKs, so I can take the “herd the children through their bedtime routine” off the table. However, we do have an adorable long-haired, female Dachshund that my wife has set up a stringent bathroom break schedule that I think my wife dreams up to interrupt my life – whenever she, or I should say – the dog wants. 🙂

Seriously, besides politics, the Kardashians, and world peace, we discuss the dogs bowels more than anything (Even the dancing scores of “Dancing with the Stars“). So see, we are parents (of a furry kid) after all. You should see the number of toys (Sweaters, leashes, collars (for each season or holiday of the year. Don’t even get me started about the Halloween costumes for this dog. Sigh) we buy for this dog. I guess dog toys are like shoes for you ladies out there.

I make the dog wait, but not my wife

I used to joke with my wife about the differences between our bladders;
She has a stock bladder (Or the economy sized one, actually), and
I got the bladder upgrade. I could go for hours and not even think about relieving my bladder, but getting older with a side of retaining water brought a change to all that. Water pills prescribed by my doctor made my bladder similar to my wife’s, and the race to relieve them is somewhat similar, but still…

My wife still wins the bathroom visit game – by a mile

My life has slight OCD. She loves routines (One she still has yet to adopt is giving me a 45 minutes massage, but anyway…), and going to the bathroom when we get somewhere is one routine that holds strong for her.

Much of our trips to places includes me waiting – outside the ladies restroom, trying not to appear like a weirdo. When we go to Target (as I mentioned in this great blog post) is a Survivor-like challenge of;

waiting (for what seems like an eternity),

standing (with nowhere to sit down),
trying to avoid screaming children and
standing in front of the cold soda cabinet at the front of the store and invariably picking the one that someone must get into to get a cold drink. I’m lucky that way.

Lordy, women take a long time in the Potty

Back to Rita. Another point she makes in her blog post is “Yet here you are half an hour later, still glued to the porcelain throne…” Now, sometimes the “Game of Throne” visits do take a longer period of time for guys, but my lord – my wife takes soooooooo much longer than I could ever take. I could; fix all the plot holes in “The Force Awakens,” broker peace between Taylor Swift and Nicki Minaj, then help Miley Cyrus to wear more clothes onstage in a third of the time my wife spends in the bathroom.

What do women do in the bathroom?

Plot the overthrow of Victoria’s Secret? Hooters? Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition? What?????

Add to that – women invite a whole host of other women to go in the bathroom with them? Look, I’ve been in a bathroom a time or two. I know what goes on in there, and if I was going to invite someone to go along with me, it would be something fun like;

Going to a Baby Shower and play strip poker,
Taking a Drawing Class – the models would be the female professional dancers from Dancing With The Stars,
Taking an architectural tour – of the Playboy Mansion (Inside and Out),

Becoming an entertainment intern and help cast a movie – an adult movie,
Donating your time as a Bikini fitter, etc
and not smelling like, well – a bathroom.

Apple hates me, too

Rita also mentioned in her blog post, “Something tells me your drawn-out dumps are more like marathon Candy-Crushing, Facebooking, virtual-deer-hunting … sessions.” I hear you. My wife takes her iPad into “the room of rest,” and BeJewels her Frozen Candy Crushing Tsum Tsum games. Sometimes I call down the hall to her to make sure she’s alright, and she answers back like I’m crazy. The sad thing is if there are bathrooms in Heaven, the iPad won’t work there (No spotty AT&T Wifi in Heaven? Nope). For my wife, that probably will be a little Hell in Heaven.

In Conclusion

Well, Rita I don’t have an answer to your crappy quandary, but I understand. If you ever want to talk about it, meet me around the corner of the bathrooms at Target – leaning (never sitting down) against the wall near the glass window enclosiure with all the circular deals pinned up inside.

Note: This is written as faction – part fact, part fiction. Only I know which part is fact and which is fiction, so don’t worry if it’s about you or not (Family and Friends), just read and laugh.

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