Sometimes, it's amazing the difference
between perception and reality.
I promise not to focus on my “Potty
Training” for all my future blog posts but for now it's a rather
controlling force of life.
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Last night, my children, Beverly and I had
planned a nice dinner for Susan's birthday, Chinese food, carrot cake
(her favorite), sparkling wine, flowers and presents. Since I have
been having issues with my feet after walking I decided to skip my
afternoon walk to be one hundred percent for the evening festivities.
What I hadn't factored in was the treatment I would receive from
regions “North of DA Feet”.
For some reason my bathroom
requirements have more necessary in the evenings then in the
mornings, this evening would border on the the ridiculous. My
sessions started off innocently enough later afternoon with no
hint that they would soon be required every fifteen to twenty minutes
as evening approached.
As time passed, the perception that I
had just passed the Rock of Gibraltar was met with the reality that
“Bunny Foo Foo” could have laid down a bigger marker. Fire flowed
from the depths of hell to the point that even the baby wipes
presented no relief.
Sorry, I digress, but while I'm on the
subject of baby wipes, those who know me can testify to my skills with
Photoshop. In every bathroom of my house and office you can find a
package of baby wipes bearing a lovely picture of a woman cradling
an adorable baby. It is a comforting picture, yet in my darkest
bathroom moments the devil is trying to convince me to replace it
with a photo of a balding middle age man, tears steaming out of his
eyes as fire shoots from the throne below. Temptation has almost won
out.
Where was I, oh yea, Susan's birthday
dinner.
Like Custer's last stand I made a
valiant effort to make it through dinner, standing up of course.
After too many trips back and forth, I made my apologies and off to
bed I headed. Laying down felt good but did not help the frequency of
visits. Soon, sitting on the throne I heard voices raised in song and
joined in with my grunt loaded rendition of Happy Birthday.
I don't feel a bit sorry for myself,
instead I'm grateful that I'm here knowing that each day may present
it's own challenges but I will meet them knowing I will prevail, one day laughing about it all. At this second in time I don't want to laugh too hard
as it might just shake something loose.
Keep Smiling, keep your sense of humor
................. Mike
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