Today my daughter re-began potty training. She had started at the same time as her older brother, but soon we discovered that she wasn't in it for the satisfaction of using the toilet. What she wanted was the tremendous amounts of false praise that we heaped on her sitting on the toilet. Sitting on the throne with no results, followed by an accident within minutes of re-pantsing, forced us to abandon our attempts at early training.
I was informed of her progress by a phone call at work. Two year olds don't grasp the concept of wireless communication, so she yelled as loud as she could to ensure that I heard. After the call, my comrades in arms congratulated me for having someone (they assumed it was my wife) go pee-pee in the potty.
The topic of conversation soon moved to something we in the military refer to as "Operation Golden Flow." Owing to problems of drug abuse in the military (problems peaked in the 70s, and levels of abuse are very low today) people are randomly chosen to donate their urine for drug testing. Now this isn't your standard pee in a cup behind closed doors test. This test is monitored. Some unlucky soul gets the pleasure of being the pee-pee monitor, and must watch as each individual (of the same sex) urinates into a translucent container which has remained visible from the time it was handed to the pee-er until it is resealed and handed back to the monitor. Stage fright is a common enough occurrence in a crowded rest room, but to know, absolutely and for certain, that someone is checking you out, it's a lot of pressure to perform. There is no reading material on the wall to serve as a distraction. Attempts at conversation are weak and awkward. One must simply be extra hydrated and hope that the sheer hydraulic pressure is enough to overcome what would otherwise be an excuse to exit the restroom, pretend to get a drink, and then reenter and hope no one recognized you.
Maybe it would have been better to stay in the diapers.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
On Making Pee-Pees in the Potty
Posted by Big Morty at Thursday, February 09, 2006
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3 comments:
I've been selected for Operation Golden Flow at least once every four or five months since arriving on station here. The last time was a few days ago. I had an inkling about why they were calling me in because they didn't say why they needed to see me in the orderly room. Consequently, I drank a large glass of water and chugged a caffeinated beverage (caffeine being a diuretic and all).
By the time I finally showed up at the clinic my eyeballs were floating and I had difficulty sitting still while waiting for my turn with the pee pee monitor. At last it was my turn and I thought this time for sure I would walk in there and fill that cup with little to no embarrassment. Alas this was not to be the case. It was only after an excruciating 32 hours or so of trying to think about waterfalls, drinking fountains, rainstorms and the like, with sporadic additions to the plastic receptacle; that I finally provided the requisite amount of fluid for the test. It was a good thing too because I think my wife was on the verge of reporting me missing to the authorities.
Relieved to turn in the cup and recover my ID card, I quickly left the waiting area and practically ran (while trying not to look like I was running – you military types remember the term adjunct’s pace?) to the nearest rest room where I promptly unloaded my excess testable material.
I maintain precise control of nuclear-tipped intercontinental ballistic missiles capable of destroying the world as we know it, but no matter how hard I try, it seems urinating at will with an audience will be forever beyond my abilities.
Good stuff! Both Big Morty and dakrat. Thanks for the chuckles!
A "pee-pee monitor?" You military guys are nuts!
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