Pee Pee Queen
Leaving for San Diego next Wednesday! I can’t wait to blow this popsicle stand. All the arrangements are made, my sister is set up to watch the house/animals, my boss will be at Comic-Con as well (therefore, no work guilt) so I am responsibility-free for a week. Woo. Hoo.
I believe that I have finally met my Speed-Peeing match. It has been a joke since I was a wee girl that I am the fastest urinator alive. (Maybe that's the superhero I'd be..."The Urinator.") I can be in and out of a public restroom in three minutes flat. I know that some family members have speculated that I don’t wash my hands, but I swear I do. I even use soap. (And flush the toilet with my foot.) But I have never seen the point of any mambie-pambie in the restroom. I get in, pee, wash my hands and get the heck out of there. If it’s a hand-dryer, I just wipe my hands on my jeans. And if I have to pee at a movie theater, I can even push it to lightening speed (still washing hands.) I can get out of the theater, do my business and get back to the movie—all in one scene. I am the Pee Pee Queen.
BUT I believe that Shelley’s dog, Lucy, has thrown down the gauntlet. I let her out twice while Shelley and Dan were out of town, and that dog can pee. I actually think that she might be afraid of the grass. She scampers out, pees and quickly jumps back on the patio. It reminds me of that game I played when I was a kid—Acid Lava. You know, the ground is acid lava and you have to travel across the yard to home base without touching the grass. You end up swinging off of lightposts unto flower pots and then hanging onto the clothesline until it bends. Then, invariably, some neighbor kid falls on the ground and declares that the lava only burns through your flesh if you touch for more than five seconds. Loser.
I believe that I have finally met my Speed-Peeing match. It has been a joke since I was a wee girl that I am the fastest urinator alive. (Maybe that's the superhero I'd be..."The Urinator.") I can be in and out of a public restroom in three minutes flat. I know that some family members have speculated that I don’t wash my hands, but I swear I do. I even use soap. (And flush the toilet with my foot.) But I have never seen the point of any mambie-pambie in the restroom. I get in, pee, wash my hands and get the heck out of there. If it’s a hand-dryer, I just wipe my hands on my jeans. And if I have to pee at a movie theater, I can even push it to lightening speed (still washing hands.) I can get out of the theater, do my business and get back to the movie—all in one scene. I am the Pee Pee Queen.
BUT I believe that Shelley’s dog, Lucy, has thrown down the gauntlet. I let her out twice while Shelley and Dan were out of town, and that dog can pee. I actually think that she might be afraid of the grass. She scampers out, pees and quickly jumps back on the patio. It reminds me of that game I played when I was a kid—Acid Lava. You know, the ground is acid lava and you have to travel across the yard to home base without touching the grass. You end up swinging off of lightposts unto flower pots and then hanging onto the clothesline until it bends. Then, invariably, some neighbor kid falls on the ground and declares that the lava only burns through your flesh if you touch for more than five seconds. Loser.
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