We parents are a melancholy bunch from time to time. No, no; it’s OK, don’t worry. This isn’t criticism. It’s just an observation. We parents are a melancholy bunch from time to time. A little woe-is-me. A tiny bit pessimistic. A wee bit Eeyore-esque. Ho hum, we say to ourselves, we work and we work and we toil away, and who thanks us? No one. No one thanks us.
And it’s true.
No one thanks us.
Except occasionally when they do, but mostly no one thanks us, and no one will thank us for the menial tasks we do every day.
No one thanks us, and no one will thank us for the many life skills we teach our children, and we’re probably right about that Not Gonna Be Thanked thing… but we might be wrong, and therein lies our hope.
My dad and I left on a trip today. It’s an annual, week-long canoe trip for my dad, one he’s invited me to attend year after year. Year after year, I’ve said the same thing, which is, “What part of FIVE KIDS do you not understand, man?” But this year my kids are a little older. And this year my kids can almost always wipe themselves. And this year my anxiety medication mostly works. And this year, Greg said, “Go.” So this year, I’m going.
As we raced down the highways yesterday, winding our way through Oregon and then Idaho and Utah, watching wide open spaces blow by and stopping at public restroom after gas station after rest area, I thought two things:
- My bladder just isn’t what it once was. Then, a reservoir as vast as the vistas stretching endlessly before us. Now, a shriveled ghost of its former glory.
- I really should thank my mama for teaching me to squat-pee.
So, to bring hope to the next generation and prove that we may, after all, someday be thanked, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my mom for teaching me to squat-pee so I never have to touch a public potty with my bare ass.
While I’m at it, I’d also like to thank her for teaching me to wipe good and that picking my nose and eating it will give me pin worms and for trapping me in the bathroom with a box of Tampax and the little instruction sheet until I learned to use a tampon so I could go on that one river raft trip in middle school. Because you know what? I’m about to spend a week on a river, and I’m going to squat-pee and wipe good and not eat my boogers and I’m not even a little bit worried about whether or not I’ll need to use tampons. MOM FOR THE WIN!
Someday your kid might thank you for teaching her to squat-pee in public restrooms, too. Because LIFE SKILL. There is HOPE, is what I’m saying. Hope for the future, parents. Keep up the good work. (And thank your mommy.)
P.S. I’ll be away from the blog from September 30-October 7 since the Green River in Canyonlands National Park has no internet. This means several things:
- In my absence, Greg is taking over. I THINK this means he’ll pin a different post from the archives to the top of the blog every day so that, if you check back here, you’ll have new daily reading material. HOWEVER, it may mean he hijacks the blog to discuss Doctor Who. I can’t be held responsible for Greg’s need to discuss the Doctor, is my point.
- Greg needs your help picking posts from the archives. I’d really love for these to be reader favorites, so, if you have a favorite 5Kids blog post, please share it (a description or a link is fine) with an explanation why. Greg will share your explanation when he shares the link on Facebook.
- Speaking of Facebook, if I AM able to communicate at all, it’ll be (probably useless tidbits like this entire post) via Facebook. You can join our Facebook community here.
P.P.S. If you signed up for a ComeUnity group (see: Are You Looking for the Elusive Village?) and you haven’t heard back from me, don’t worry! YOU WILL. I may take me a week, what with the river and all, but YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN.