Month of Thankfulness Part VI

The other day I ran some errands & drank my usual gallon of water on the way. When I run errands, it's a couple hours' worth of an ordeal. In my small town I have a grocery store that is great for quick runs but if I don't want to spend an entire paycheck on one week of groceries, it's best to go the next town over. Since I have a truck, I make the gas worth the trip & do all my stops...pharmacy, groceries, incidentals...at once. 

In the last of 5 stores I had that lil ol' Thought Fairy pop up & whisper, "Think you should use the rest room while you're in this store?" I brushed her off my shoulder 'cause...dude, I'm not 4. I can hold it. 

On the drive home, that annoying lil Thought Fairy popped up again, "Told ya so." Man, she can be such a bitch when she's right. 

My options were to pull over on the side of the road & pee in some farmer's field & risk being trampled by a bull or having a cop stop 'cause to pee in a field I must have been smokin' something. Or step on the gas & pray I don't pee while driving. I wouldn't worry about peeing on my seat if I had leather seats. My pants would soak it all up. Not that I want to do that, mind you, but IF it were to happen, it'd be best on leather seats. I really, really don't want to steam clean my cloth truck seats. 

So I kept truckin' along, clenching tighter & tighter, wondering why I have to live so stinkin' far from the stores. While I was driving, I was seeing visions of my credit score & how much house I could afford, calculating how upset my kids would be to move to a bigger city where ShopKo is only a block away, & convincing myself that I just love packing & moving & unpacking. All the while that bitchy lil ol' Thought Fairy kept saying, "I warned you. You always think you know better than me. When will you learn?" 

I'm sure I was quite the sight, if anyone could see into my truck at the speed I was going. Yelling "Shut up!" in the direction of my shoulder & holding onto the steering wheel as if I was on a NASCAR track, complete with bugging eyes & furrowed brow. 

I got home. Ah, relief is in sight! I get out of the truck & dash for the door. I figured if I was going to pee my pants before I got to the bathroom at least I could do it in my own home where no one would know. I was very happy at the thought of not being far away from a bathroom until I reached for my keys...

...& realized I had the wrong set of keys. Since we just had a break-in, I had really made sure the house was locked up tight. 

I'm standing at my door, holding onto the door knob, yelling at my keys, "Why?! Why couldn't you have the correct key??" 

You know that PeePee Dance that 3 year olds do when they just have to go? The one where they lock their knees, stick their butt out, bounce up & down, & sing, "I have to go potty! I have to go potty!" 

My neighbors now know what that looks like on a grown woman. 

Not only did I do the PeePee Dance while I hobbled over to the door that I had the key for, but I had my own little song to go along with it, "I have to peeeee. I haaaaave to pee. I have tooooo pee" as I made my way, hunched over, butt bouncing, to the other door. 

As I unlocked the door, the song & pitch changed to, "I HAVE TO PEE NOW!!!!" 

My next thought was, "Screw security" as I left the door wide open, dropped my bag & keys, & literally flew to the bathroom. 

At that moment I was thankful for...

#28:...a small home because the bathroom is never far away.