(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-SEVEN days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)
Nothing is more glorious and wonderful than the Squatty Potty:
After all, is there anything else that incites such reactions? Such smells? Such stories?
I think not.
Yes, folks--you stand up to Do Your Business.
Oooooh, the stories. Things like having to use the squatty potties made our trip to China just that more memorable.
One of my favorite stories to tell (and tell, and tell) is when a few of us girls entered The Toilet together. This particular restroom (at the orphanage) had dividers between each toilet, but they went only as far up as our shoulders. So--we could still see each other over the walls, and continue our blabbing if we pleased.
All a bit disconcerting, I might add.
Crazy Americans. So private.
So I was doing my best at concentrating on my own business, but probably due to a neck cramp (yes, it takes those muscles to squat!!) I decided to look over at my pal next door. And much to my surprise, her sweatshirt was wrapped all around her head a few times, in an "effort" to block out the smell.
Don't think that worked.
But it got a good snort outta me.
Better luck next time, "Mummy."
(Next time??!)
(Of course! We need to add to our collection of stories.)
(Read the whole China story.)
Nothing is more glorious and wonderful than the Squatty Potty:
After all, is there anything else that incites such reactions? Such smells? Such stories?
I think not.
Yes, folks--you stand up to Do Your Business.
Your flabby thighs? Start to burn.
The toilet paper? Carry your own.
The basket in the corner? Used toilet paper.
The smell? Don't Breathe.
The floor? Squeaky shoes.
Oooooh, the stories. Things like having to use the squatty potties made our trip to China just that more memorable.
One of my favorite stories to tell (and tell, and tell) is when a few of us girls entered The Toilet together. This particular restroom (at the orphanage) had dividers between each toilet, but they went only as far up as our shoulders. So--we could still see each other over the walls, and continue our blabbing if we pleased.
All a bit disconcerting, I might add.
Crazy Americans. So private.
So I was doing my best at concentrating on my own business, but probably due to a neck cramp (yes, it takes those muscles to squat!!) I decided to look over at my pal next door. And much to my surprise, her sweatshirt was wrapped all around her head a few times, in an "effort" to block out the smell.
Don't think that worked.
But it got a good snort outta me.
Better luck next time, "Mummy."
(Next time??!)
(Of course! We need to add to our collection of stories.)
(Read the whole China story.)
