Weak bladder, strong mind

I had a rather sodden thought while sorting laundry: Nothing worse than your bladder thinking of giving it all up for Jesus by baptizing the floor. 

It literally was a line that came to me unbidden. I grabbed it before it escaped into the void. I dictated it to my iPad, knowing full well that I wouldn’t remember it by the time I got the laundry in the machine and back upstairs again. Besides when the Gods of Poetry hand you a line, albeit dubious, you don’t ask questions.

To be clear, I didn’t actually pee on the floor. It’s just I had to go while I was trying to gather up the laundry and there was a maddening sound of running water, which imbued an incredible sense of urgency on my bladder. A line of poetry that came quickly and unbidden, and I just snagged it before I forgot it. Now forgetting things is a whole ‘nother conversation. All those ideas you think you’re gonna remember? Yeah, no. 

When I was young, my grandmother and my aunts used to turn the tap water on, to make me go to the bathroom, I guess I dawdled too much, the aunts were always complaining that I wouldn’t go in public bathrooms. Still true to this day, the sound of running water is tricky. And aging out doesn’t help.

Part of it is the party panic syndrome, my grandmother could not make it out the front door without having to run back into the bathroom, even though she had just gone. Something about crossing the lintel and going out into the world wreaked havoc with her bladder. The poor thing had a children and botched episiotomy, so it’s understandable. And she always said, it’s better to have a weak bladder than a weak mind.