The Sitters Versus The Standers

The girls are outnumbered in my house. Yes, there are more peen-eyes in my house than vajayjays. Even the dog is a boy. All these boys and then there's little ol' me and my daughter. We can't counteract all the farts and manly alphabet burping with our loofahs and glitter nail polish. It's like bringing a knife to a sword fight.

This is most noticeably apparent than in the bathroom. Every time I go to the bathroom I have to do the "seat inspection". You know, when you check the seat to make sure there aren't any pee droplets. Yep, it's super awesome to think that someone in your family can't seem to pee without getting urine on the seat. Sadly, I'm not even sure that it's solely the six year old. (He's the obvious choice of culprit due to his age. Unfair, yes, but technically he doesn't have as much aiming experience as his brother and father.)

I need to have this sign in my bathroom.

I wonder if this is only my house that has the dreaded curse of the drip drops or if there are households all over America with mothers wringing their hands over constant pee wiping? Is it only mothers with boys? Or is it kids in general? Is my husband thinking about the football game and not shaking it an extra time or what? (And who is the one responsible for teaching boys that "handy" little trick? Pun intended.)

It's even worse when it's one of those midnight pee runs. The ones that you're only half awake, stumbling through the halls, and don't bother to turn a light on and risk ruining your chances of making it back to sleep instead of staring at the clock and swearing. ("Jesus, just go the $%#@ to sleep already! You've got to go to work in 2 hours!") You never know what you might be sitting on because you'r not fully functioning enough to think about it. (Until you write a blog about wiping pee off toilet seats and give yourself the skeeves thinking about it.)

So needless to say, we're hoping that Team Sitter gets another player. It's the bottom of the ninth and the last batter is up and Team Stander is kicking our butts. So if you're there God, it's me, Margaret. I know I'm not dying because I had the whole menstruation thing explained to me, but I was hoping to get another one of those types. You know, the squatters, not the shakers. Thanks God, I appreciate it.