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This is Bapu’s Bathroom. This is the bathroom that Gandhi used when he was alive. We lived in India and it wasn’t uncommon to see men urinating along the side of the road or people squatting in a field as the train rumbled by.
It isn’t unusual for people to use the bathroom. It is a comforting place that provides relief and a potentially hygienic outlet to empty yourself.
We have three flushing toilets in our house, and they are all used quite frequently, though not quite so clean due to little boys learning how to use the potty correctly. Even when we camp, we designate a particular spot to pee and poop. If you have to go #2, you simply dig a hole and cover up #2 with the recently moved dirt.
All of this is to say that I never thought anyone older than 4 would use my backyard to go to the bathroom. I will spare you the details. But as I sat down to enjoy some solitude with the Lord this morning, I looked up only to see someone relieving themselves (pooping) in the back of our yard–thinking that the trees hid him.
Nope. It didn’t work. I could see him.
I am in shock. And I had gotten to the point of talking myself out of walking to Subway and the park. (It has been a rough day.) We would stay home.
But I just couldn’t do it after this turn of events. I felt slightly contaminated and too grossed out to go play near the poop.
I comprised. I hastily made lunch and we drove to the state park.
I didn’t have the park pass. I think God knew that I was about ready to break down into tears. The kind woman working waved us through.
Jodi is married to her high school sweetheart. She blogs about fermentation, whole foods, homeschooling, essential oils, home-birthing, and gardening.
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