Two nights ago, I paid someone $2 for the privilege of peeing indoors. And I loved it! Yes, down here in New Orleans, it is Carnival time, time for parades and beads and food and crowds and booze--and nowhere to pee, unless you know the right spots to stand. After living here for 8 years, I'm beginning to figure it out. If ya wanna avoid port-a-potties, ya gotta go to St. Michael's for the parades. But if you do use the big plastic boxes, remember to stock your pockets with napkins, kleenexes, or (if you're really prepared) toilet paper cuz otherwise you're gonna be just shaking it off.
Last year, I wondered how we'd handle my son being out of diapers once he was potty trained--this year, he's a peeing pro. But he has not yet graced the porta-potty; he prefers to "water" the trees, weeds, dirt--he doesn't care. More often than not, though, he just holds it--and he can hold it for hours. We don't make him hold it, nor do we want him to. He just refuses to go while there are floats going by and beads to catch--he even digs the marching bands and the "girls in their beautiful outfits" who march and dance behind the bands. When asked what he likes the best, he says, "All of it! I like all of it!" but then amends, "except when everyone starts yelling when the float comes--why do they do that?" I explained everyone cheers to show excitement and to catch the riders' attention, and he said, "They are so loud in my ears." But last night, I heard him hollering, up on his daddy's shoulders, calling out, "Beads! Beads! Beads!" That's my boy.
I love Mardi Gras.