The Public Restroom

While it must have been a woman who conceived it, some misogynist bloke must have been charged with designing it. From my early years when Mom warned me to hover over the seat less I catch some nasty disease to today's automatic toilets that treat me to a bidet experience when they prematurely flush, I have long cringed at the necessity of urination off location!

When I was 30 weeks pregnant with my fourth baby (in five and a half years), I had the opposite of a religious experience in a stall at a rest stop along the Garden State Parkway. I tried to master the hover while holding my two year old (who was fascinated by the puddle from the leaky commode) and instructing the four and five year olds to not lean on our wobbly door - which was equally threatening to pop open or take down the entire row of attached stalls. It was half an hour later as I raced up the Parkway that I realized that effort of multi-tasking had nudged me into early labor.

I don't hover or squat anymore. I wipe the seat, curse under my breath the gal that did the hovering right before me, and muse that if we all sat, there would be no reason to wipe!

Another public restroom peeve is the paper. While I do often wonder why Charmin and the rest even produce the small roll-I mean is anyone ever going to not need more-I'd like to get my hands on that guy who came up with those gigantic rolls that are stacked on top of one another in a "cleverly" designed industrial strength paper holder. Problem is that the half-ply paper is so thin that it can't handle the weight of its own roll. Reminds me of the folks that are in wheelchairs not because their legs aren't working, but because they're so obese their legs can't hold them.

Both really bug me. Bigger is not always better.