Oklahoma has a lot of lakes. My in-laws built a house on one of the most beautiful lakes in the eastern part of the state. It's their weekend retreat and the girls love to spend time out there doing lake-type activities.
While wading around in the lake this past weekend, I decided I needed to pee.
Big lake, family was a good distance away, not a snapping turtle in sight -- good time to practice one of natures true joys in life. I sat back, tried to relax, got into the frame of mind that all mammals of higher intelligence zone into during the pre-urination ritual.
I couldn't muster a drop.
Minutes later, still nothing. Surrounded by megatons of lake water, in the privacy afforded by the underwater veil of secrecy, I and my pathetically full bladder remained innert.
Only thing I can figure is that at 41 (about to turn 42), my mind is still somewhat in control of my body, even on a subconscious level. So ingrained in my brain is the proclivity to "hold it in" until an appropriate time, that even when I'm relaxing in a semi-warm crystal clear eastern Oklahoma lake, can I not produce even a single drop.
After failing the most basic of biological functions, I climbed back into the boat and we lazily motored ourselves back to the cabin.
You guessed it. I needed to go all the way home.
But I was able to hold it in. I am, after all, still a man. I now know that my urinary limitations involve porcelin fixtures and maybe an occasional tree/bush.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment