Fun Fact: My mom and I have very similar digestive schedules. This sometimes causes fights on who gets the downstairs bathroom first. It usually depends on who will be done the quickest, or who thinks they can hold it the longest. Because, who wants to go upstairs with clenched legs? Not I.
I haven't left my house since Saturday night. It's been snowing ever since. Since I'm probably the biggest pussy ever when it comes to driving/walking/existing in snow/ice/cold, I pretty much stay home all the time whenever the white stuff is on the ground. So, I've been going a bit stir crazy. After watching endless hours of boring TV shows, and eating about 20-30 clementines in 3 days, I decided to look up recipes for home made play dough. At this point, my mom decided to go use the bathroom. In my head, I had already thought to go to the bathroom, but decided I could wait until she was done. Little did I know she had other plans for me for when she went to use the bathroom.
She gets up to go, and I'm sitting at the computer in the kitchen, beginning my search for recipes for play dough. She asks me to take the trash outside. I say alright, and watch her go off to the bathroom. I figure I can still wait it out, and decide to please my mother by taking the trash out right away. I go get a coat, and take the trash out of the can. I go towards the garage, and open the garage door. The instant I hit the cold air of the outdoors, it is immediately realized that I am not going to be able to hold this piss much longer. I pray silently to myself that my mother will be done doing whatever bathroom things she has to do by the time I go back inside. Then I realize I have the dilemma of how to put the trash in the outside can without putting my feet in the snow.
Back to me being a snow-puss. The boots I have on are flat on the bottom. They don't have any traction. Walking in the snow really isn't the problem. It's the entering back into the garage, onto the slippery concrete that bothers my brain. I thought for a moment to just take my boots off, walk two steps barefoot into the snow, then put my boots back on one foot at a time so I didn't get any snow on the boots, so that I wouldn't slip and fall on the garage floor and break everything. Then I realized that was ridiculous. So then I grab a broom, and with the giant bag of trash in one hand, my dominant, right hand...I use my left hand to try and maneuver the top off of the outside can long enough to swing the bag into the can. The problem I was having was the area I was in. I didn't have enough space to swing the bag. I was standing between the back of my mom's van, and the edge of the garage door. Just enough space for my thick body to fit. Not enough space to swing anything. Next I figure the best way would be to put the bag down, see if I could lean out far enough to reach the can with my arm, or the broom handle, and pull it closer. This plan works. I get the can, pull it close, and use the left hand to open the can, and the right hand to dump the trash. All while clenching my legs tightly together.
I quickly hobble back to the door to go inside, and then open it, am barely able to climb the one two step into the house to ask my mom if she's out of the bathroom yet. I may have leaked a droplet or two. I ask her, painfully, if she's done. She responds with a definite NO. It is then that I tell her my newest plan. I say "I'm going to go pee in the driveway then." Then I turn around, let out a groan of pain as I hop/run out the door, grab a paper towel from the rack in the garage, and pull my pants down as I turn out the light to the garage.
It's 10 degrees out there. It's 2:30am. It's snowing. I drop my pants, bend over to grab and pull them forward as I squat down. My coat is covering my ass. My feet are inside the garage, planted firmly on the concrete. My piss is now flowing out into the snowy driveway. I feel the cold wind and snowflakes brushing against my legs and my ;). I wipe it up. Then promptly pull up my pants, grab the broom from earlier, and sweep a pile of fresh, white snow over my yellow snow.
Then I go and repeat the process for getting the trash can close enough to toss out my paper towel.
Right after I finish tossing the towel, the door to the garage opens, and my mom calls out "Did you do what you said you were going to do?" I calmly reply "Yes, I did." Next thing I know, she's shutting the door to the garage. I know she's mad. I know I'm in for it. I smoke a cigarette before going inside to meet my maker.
I got told to never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER...in my life...ever again, piss in her driveway.
Heh.
