There’s a reason I hate camping. (Oops. We try not to use the word hate.) There’s a reason I strenuously dislike camping.
Well, there are a number of reasons, really. Creepy bugs. Being too cold. Being too hot. Crawling bugs. Sleeping on the ground. Changing clothes in a 4×4 foot space. Flying bugs. Rain. The pitch black night in the woods. Have I mentioned bugs?
But perhaps the biggest reason I strenuously dislike camping is how I feel about peeing outdoors.
Please don’t give me the whole nobody pees outdoors anymore, campgrounds have facilities now argument. Campground facilities rank on a sliding scale of hideously frightening Port-a-Potties to mildly alarming rustic restrooms. Nothing I’ve encountered so far in a campground makes me comfortable with partially disrobing for any amount of time whatsoever.
Which is a problem since I don’t believe it’s possible to survive 36 to 48 hours without performing this particular bodily function.
So what’s the big deal with peeing in one of those facilities that looks deceptively like a cabin? Let’s see. The last one I had the pleasure of utilizing had open spaces near the ceiling, an important feature seeing as it wasn’t air conditioned and one can only tolerate so much oppressive North Carolina heat without passing out. Make no mistake, it was still hot as hades in there, but it could have been worse.
Unfortunately those open spaces also made it extraordinarily convenient for all sorts of critters to climb, slither, and crawl their way into the restroom. Now we’re looking at a structure that had dark corners and moths flitting against bulbs and bugs traversing the walls, but I’m supposed to drop trou and pee in there?! Let’s just say I probably broke records for speediness, but my blood pressure shot through the roof as I warily watched for the spider that was surely about to launch itself from the wall and land on my shoulder.
There are no words.
Which means this week I’m declaring my undying gratitude for indoor plumbing. The ability to pee free from snake and spider attack is truly priceless.
Can I get an amen?
My entry as part of Colline’s Gratitude Project.