I Pissed On The Frogs Head

I had a dream last night that I was at my sister-in-laws house in Ontario. She has a lovely big home on a hill that overlooks a beautifully treed valley. The last time that I was there was in the autumn and the colours (although not at their peak) were spectacular.

We had a nice visit as we always do and as I sat in the relatively massive great room I contemplated how I would have done things differently if it were my house. There are a few changes I would make, but by and large they did a pretty good job when it was designed. The two guest bedrooms share a bathroom; I think it is called a “Jack and Jill” bathroom. I suppose because it is where you can go to get a pail of water. Seems pretty stupid to me, but I freely admit to being decorating challenged.

I think it was this bathroom that was the kernel of my dream. We were visiting and due to the amount of tea that I had been drinking I needed to go to the bathroom. I excused myself and walked down to the “Jack and Jill”. I was thinking to myself that when I get in the bathroom I have to remember to lock both doors, because this family have walked in on me a time or two and as they say, “Locked doors make for good in-laws” or something like that. When I walked into the bathroom I was stunned by the size of it! It was like a cross between a bawdy house and a Roman bath. There were plants, fountains, sculptures of cherubs and what appeared to be more than a few renaissance paintings. The floors, walls and ceilings were of Italian marble, I guess to stay with the Roman bath theme. What the Fuck?

I am used to smallish bathrooms and dislike the large ostentatious Vegas style facilities. I am just not comfortable in lavish surroundings. They don’t even have to be lavish to make me uncomfortable, just large. I was backpacking on the West Coast Trail a few years ago and felt the urge to become one with nature. In the pamphlets they encourage you to use the inter-tidal toilet. It was a day or two before I realized they meant that I should dig a hole in the sand and make my deposit there. It is an odd feeling to be squatting in the middle of a mile or so of empty beach with the ocean waves breaking behind you and the seagulls swooping around your head hoping that you will feed them. I am pretty sure they wouldn’t want anything I would give them at that particular moment. I just couldn’t do it! What if someone came around that headland a half mile away? Eventually I went into the woods and went in the woods. I need a more intimate setting when processing my waste.

Back at Ev’s, I still had to pee, so I looked for a toilet. Can you imagine that I couldn’t find a cubicle anywhere in that massive room? I decided that the large green porcelain frog with the big pink tongue sticking out was actually the urinal. I wish it wasn’t looking at me; I tend to have performance anxiety. I covered his eyes with a couple of big leaves (probably the toilet paper) and just as I was about to relieve myself a group of ladies came from behind some bushes and started to giggle. I am sure they were laughing at some humorous anecdote and not at me, but I couldn’t be sure. I squatted down and pretended to be looking at the frog until they passed. The one woman stopped and said to me “The frog is the urinal; I think you want the waterfall.” They all laughed and moved on and I was beet red from embarrassment.

I hate this bathroom!

I waited until they were out of sight and instead of going in its mouth; I pissed on the frogs head!

I hate dreams like this too!