Why is it that I always have to pee more often when I’m wearing a one-piece bathing suit?
Probably because it’s sucking in my fat so forcefully that my bladder cannot store even one 12 oz. poolside beverage for any length of time.
I know everyone else is just peeing in the water.
That dad in the Deep End, with the red solo cup, has been sitting in his inner tube for 3 hours.
I don’t know whether it’s moral opposition – or the fact that I still believe there’s purple pee-dye in the pool, but I just can’t do it.
So I waddle into the restroom like a wet Beluga – trying not to think about the grey mystery slop on the floor.
I writhe my body out of it’s sausage casing and sit down on the toilet completely naked – freezing.
Praying the snot-nosed boys outside don’t figure out the door code and walk in on me.
Wouldn’t want to traumatize the children.
Like the time I accidentally saw my grandmother naked at the beach.
In my 8-year-old mind, her breasts were enormous…and flat…and long. Like two deflated whoopy cushions smashed against her body. She must have been 100 years old…
She was probably 57 with a great body.
After my 5 minutes of peace, I stand up and….
I can’t get my bathing suit back on. I mean…I REALLY cannot get this bitch back on my body.
Meanwhile the kids outside are tugging on the door handle. Giggling.
I pull. And pull. And nothing. I cannot even get it over my ass cheeks.
Panic sets in.
I have no cell phone. No way to call the outside world for help. Who would I even call?
My husband is the only one with the kindness AND the physical aptitude to handle the job.
I’ve seen him fit a large pizza box in an already-full ForceFlex Trash Bag.
Hmm…how long will it take before he comes to rescue me on his own?
He’s most likely thrilled to have 10 nag-free-minutes without me.
I could be in here for days.
I decide to calm down and move slowly.
Centimeter by centimeter, I inch the suit up over my body. Over the butt… Now over the belly… I shove my boobs inside and…
The lights go out.
Oh my God. I must’ve been in here so long the timer went off.
I flail my arms around to set off the sensor, but I’m disoriented.
I feel for the wall. I would take off my sunglasses, but they’re prescription, and I’m legally blind, so that could only make matters worse.
What seems like hours later… I find the door handle.
I shield my eyes from the sun.
I’ve just escaped The Hole, and no one on the outside seems to care.
I think to myself…the next time I have to use the restroom (which will be in like 15 minutes) I am DEFINITELY going to bring Colt’s flashlight and his toy pliers…