The home is a sacred space in which one ought to feel secure, relaxed, and able to let their guard down. The bathroom is the most sacred space of the home, so all that other stuff goes for it also but even more. Or so I thought.
Today as I sat on the toilet in the locked bathroom of my locked apartment, I found myself ill-prepared for the real threat that those locks could not protect me from. Yes, I dropped a heavy deuce and the toilet water splashed directly onto my vagina.
It was so cold. I’ll never forget how cold it was.
When I sensed that this poop wasn’t like the others, it was as though time slowed down and sped up all at once. The tail end exited my butt and plunged deeply and angrily into the low, calm water as the aggravated piss waves lapped upon my vag. I felt powerless to change the course of history as it unfolded beneath and between my holes.
And the world just expected me to…go about my day like nothing ever happened.
First, you curse your fate. Why was the water so low? Why didn’t I move away fast enough? Did I, in some way, deserve this? Then you think to what could have been, and feel at once grateful and increasingly disturbed. What if it had been diarrhea? It’s cold comfort knowing that that’s the only way it could have been worse. We still all know I might have fecal matter on my genitals at this very moment. I have a meeting in two minutes. At this point, I have no choice but to be strong.
The lesson? Don’t take any moment where toilet water isn’t splashing all over your junk for granted, because if it happened to me, it could happen to you, it could happen with raging diarrhea, it could happen to your mom, it could happen to your vag with your mom’s raging diarrhea (maybe). So be careful, be present, and be kind, because everything can change in the blink of an eye.
Also, I guess the other lesson would be to get some wet wipes.