Bathroom Brouhaha

I feel like I’ve missed something. Admittedly, I often feel like this since I’d rather spend my life reading books than interacting with humans, but the furor around this issue leaves me flummoxed.

Recently, the Obama administration told schools to allow transgender students to use the bathroom that matches their gender identity.

Okay. Great. Move on. Right?

Not so fast, common sense. It seems many people in this country received common sense vaccinations, rendering it impossible for them to behave like rational people. So, they scream and freak out, saying Obama has given permission for pedophiles and perverts to access the saintly vault of women’s bathrooms.

Officials in 12 states, including quick-to-be-stupid Utah, are huffing and puffing and stomping their feet, and suing the White House because they feel the issue should be decided “by the states.”


(Actually, yes, he is the boss. He’s the President. Of. The. United. States.)

There have been transgender people using bathrooms in America for decades and it’s never been a problem that I’m aware of (refer to paragraph 1.) So why now?

These aren’t people going into bathrooms with video cameras strapped to their shoes. This directive doesn’t allow the school’s quarterback to barge into the ladies room and kick open doors. It doesn’t grant approval to men to dash through the women’s water closet, giggling and running from stall to stall, peeing on the toilet seats.

Nope. All of that is still not allowed, crazy people.

This White House ruling was meant to foster non-discrimination across the country, and will affect less than 1% of ‘Merica’s population. In fact, .03% of the population are considered transgender, with most of those people undergoing gender transition procedures.

Obama’s hope is that these students can be treated fairly without being discriminated against. So, remind me again why people have their panties in a bunch?


(“Are you s***ing me?”)

Would it bother me if a transgender person used the stall next to me? Nope. I wouldn’t even know. They are normal people, just trying to get through their day with as little stress as possible. Being worried about where they can pee shouldn’t even be a concern.

Does this mean you shouldn’t worry about your children being alone in the bathroom, or you don’t need to keep an eye out for Willy the Weirdo peeking over the stall? Of course not. But odds are it won’t be a transgender person doing the lawbreaking.


Much More Than a Bathroom

I read that women spend 1.5 years in the bathroom, over the course of a lifetime. That can’t be true. It has to be much longer.

For women (especially moms), a bathroom is a refuge, reading room, mini-spa, hiding place for chocolate (behind the unused bottles of dry shampoo) and crying lounge. So 18 months seems highly underestimated. Not to mention the years spent cleaning the damn room.

shower curtain

(Best. Shower. Curtain. Ever.)

Here’s a rundown of ways women utilize the most underrated room in the house:

  • It’s the weighing room, where the number on the scale determines your mood for the next 24 hours.
  • As an anti-aging cream testing lab. Once cream is applied to face, look closely in the mirror to monitor the results. If nothing changes immediately, the jar goes into the wrinkle cream graveyard under the sink.
  • The place where all the lost hair huddles around the baseboards, eventually forming an evolutionary new creature.
  • A gathering place for half-used bottles of hotel shampoos and conditioners. shampoo

(All that hotel stealing for nothing.)

  • A library where you can finally finish the last ten pages of a novel, without being continually interrupted by grubby-handed children, or husbands.
  • A studio for trying new make-up techniques found on Pinterest–usually with horrific results. There’s no such thing as an “easy” smoky eye. And don’t get me started on those intricate steps to eradicate lip lines. Pinterest lies.
  • The black hole where lip gloss, tampons, eye shadow, razors and deodorant go missing–especially if there’s a teenage daughter living in the house.
  • A place to agonize over/celebrate pregnancy tests.
  • A selfie photo studio. Obviously, way too many women spend loads of time in the bathroom with their cameras.
  • A grown-up fort where you end up yelling at your 3-year-old through the door, screeching you just need a few minutes to use the bathroom or you will strangle her Tickle Me Elmo.


(You know they’ll find you.)

  • The location for “stress-relieving” baths that include your kids methodically kicking the door every 15-30 seconds.
  • A stop for pregnancy bathroom breaks. Every 15 minutes.
  • During summer months only: Shaving legs, waxing,  applying fake tanning cream.
  • The place to make phone calls without your child interrupting you. This only works in theory. Your child will still stand outside the door and talk to you.
  • The room for applying face masks without the risk of scaring small children and husbands.

Head Shot - Copy

(I warned you not to open the door!!)

  • A place for looking in the mirror, checking for panty lines or underarm sweat (or underarm lines and panty sweat).
  • A place for looking in the mirror checking for pimples, wrinkles, food in teeth, gray hair, lip fuzz, nose boogers, dry skin, eye boogers, errant eyebrows and pore size. Just for starters.
  • A room to ponder the path of your life, wondering how in the hell you ended up in a bathroom hiding from your family.

Things That Are Truly Frightening

Halloween is approaching with a bloody axe and heavy footsteps. Between “American Horror Story” and “Paranormal Activity,” I’ve been thinking about the things that really scare me. The things that raise my knuckle hair and put a hard knot in my liver.

Besides terror-inflicting things like snakes, clowns and Kristin Stewart’s “acting,” there are things I find much creepier—and more psychologically damaging.

(Kristin and Werewolf Guy With No Shirt “act” out a scene from that sparkly vampire movie.)

The Sound of Silence: Have you ever awakened in the night, everything is pitch black and there isn’t one single sound? You KNOW that someone is standing VERY close to you, trying hard to be quiet. You can hear them not breathing. Nightmares ensue.

Noises in the Night: Or, you wake up in the night, everything is pitch black and you hear  footsteps in the hall. Is one of the kids sick? Is the dog roaming? No. There’s no one there. Even though you’re CONVINCED you heard footsteps. Sleep flees.


(Was that a reptilian alien slithering down the hall to suck out my eyeballs–or was it the ice maker?)

The Nightly News: Death, destruction and terror–all narrated by good-looking people with lots of make-up. News anchors LOVE to use fearful words like “horrific,” “cataclysmic” and “elections.” After watching footage on serial killers, animal abuse and the soon-to-happen world-wide pandemic, I’ve stopped watching the news.

Bathroom scales: Nothing is more frightening than climbing on the bathroom scale. Whether you weigh yourself daily, weekly or yearly, the number on the scale will determine your mood and self-esteem for the next 48 hours.

 (Don’t tell me what to do, you damn appliance! Someone get me a Twinkie!)

Shopping for swimming suits: Clichéd but true. Do NOT make me stand in a fluorescently-lit cubicle while trying to put on a stretchy square of fabric that wouldn’t keep my hamster warm, let alone cover all my important bits. (Note: “Hamster” is not a code word for my important bits.)

GOP candidates: Really? We’re supposed to put our support behind one of these candidates when they’re all acting like The Real Housewives of Washington, DC.?

(The start of candidate season. So, where do I get a hunting license?)

Social Situations: Does my breath smell? Do I look fat? Is my make-up smeared? Do my shoes match? Do I talk too much? Talk too little? Say the wrong thing? Have ketchup on my cheek? Eat too much? Have a booger in my nose? Do I have eye boogers? Did I put both earrings in? AAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!

Earthquakes: Utahns are always warned about The Big One. No, not Roseanne Barr returning to the state, but the 7.0 earthquake predicted to hit sometime in the next 50 years. I’d prepare, but I’m too scared.

(Well said, most interesting man in the world. Well said.)