Peeing Like A Boy
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When I was little I was enthralled by watching my cousins pee.
I was the only female grandchild for 17 years, so obviously at all family gatherings I was surrounded by male playmates. I mean, I learned the hard way about Indian burns, horse bites, and lighting farts. Needless to say I grew up a tomboy. Excuse me while I reflect back on my cousin Joel setting his ass on fire.
I remember the first time that I ever saw a boy pee. I was immediately overwhelmed with the feeling that I MUST learn to do that. I was quite troubled and irritated that I, as my mother said I proclaimed at dinner, didn't have anything to hang on to.
Every time I went to the bathroom after witnessing my cousin's amazing feat, I would take my shorts/pants off, awkwardly but firmly plant my feet on either side of the toilet, and I would pee to my little heart's content. For months I did this. At home, at a relative’s home, at day care, restaurants, anywhere was fine with me. That was until my mother caught me.
Boy did she freak out. "Leigh! What on EARTH are you doing? Stop that! RIGHT NOW!" At which I immediately lost my determined concentration and peed all over my leg. To add insult to injury, she brought me a mop and told me to clean up my mess and announced to the entire family via phone calls what I had done. I learned the definition of "humiliation" at a very early age.
Recently I made another attempt at solving the standing up and peeing enigma. I read an article that gave women step-by-step instructions for peeing upright. The instructions read like a flight manual for an F-15. Stand just so. Pull up on this. Pull out on that. Tilt this way. Hold your breath and cross your eyes. I failed miserably.
So, I still have peeing envy, but I have resigned myself to the fact that I will never write my name in the snow, aim at rocks, or pee on someone's brand new Nike sneakers with the red swoosh, just like my cousins.
Amanda Newman thinks too much about peeing.