Boys Just Like to Pee

Chapter 8

For any boys out there or mothers with boys you will understand the following story well. There is just something synonymous with boys and peeing. Especially little boys, who have just discovered it is fun to pee outside. As previously mentioned in this story, I was a boy who did everything any other little boy would do. If you can thing of something I could do wrong I would most assuredly find out how to do it.
There are a few things in life only boys will understand. There is just something about watching your pee fall from a bridge, cliff, or even a balcony that is just to tempting to pass up. It could be that is enticing to see how far you can let it fly or possibly how long it will fall. I like to chalk it up to either just fun or possibly instinct. It is definitely something a father can pass on to his son, but a mother will never understand. It is just part of who we are.
With that said I have had no inhibitions of peeing off bridges or out of car windows, while driving. The latter will have to be discussed at a later time when the owner of the car is introduced into the book. I know you can’t wait to hear it but patience is said to be a virtue. I was no different than most little boys who like to pee outside and get away with it.
This story actually has nothing to do with peeing outside, nor does it relate to peeing from an elevated point. It has to do with a little boy who just loved cartoons. Saturday morning cartoons aren’t what they used to be. I would wake up well before television stations started broadcasting, just to make sure I didn’t miss a moment of the early morning cartoons. I didn’t know how to set an alarm clock so my body just trained itself to wake up in time for the cartoons. It was almost like Christmas on a weekly basis for me.
My routine went as follows. Wake up and rub the sleepies out of the corners of my eyes. Stumble my way up the stairs quietly to not wake anyone else up. Pour myself a bowl of cereal. I really was a self sufficient little guy on Saturday mornings. Then I would carefully walk back down the stairs, usually spilling at least a little bit of my cereal on the way. Then I would plop down in front of the TV eating my cereal, while watching the test screen.
With that much effort I was not going to let the urge to void my bladder make me miss my cartoons in the morning. Also I had to defend the TV from my sisters, who always changed the channel. So I devised a plan to efficiently relieve my needs and also maintain control of the TV. As soon as the cartoon would break for commercials I would run into the adjoining laundry room to take care of business. You see there was a drain in the middle of the floor, as is found in most laundry rooms of the era. I thought it was the smartest thing ever, especially since there was no bathroom in the basement.
Now this went on for quite a while without a hitch. Had I not gotten bored with the circumstances I would have probably gotten away with it. To this day I still don’t know what prompted me to change locations but something did. I moved over one more room and peed in the storage room. This was great except there was no drain to aim for. Sooner than later my parents caught on to my improvised bathroom and confronted me about the supposed problem.
We were on the way to Grand Targhee for a fun filled weekend of skiing and playing in the snow, when my Dad brought up the topic of our previous discussion. Like any other time I had been in trouble I knew I was in for it. I slunk down in my seat and waited for someone else to confess for the indiscretion, but they all knew I was the perpetrator. I remember the guilt that followed as well as the embarrassment. I also remember the smell of the ammonia I used to clean up my mess. It was not a fun project but I willingly took the bucket and scrub brush and cleaned that storage room until it was shiny.
Over the years the embarrassment and guilt has left me. Those negative feelings have now been replaced by feelings of pride and humor. Even as a young boy I started to look for more efficient ways to live. I now know I am capable of streamlining any process, whether it be using the restroom or filling prescriptions. Everyone needs more efficiency in their life, I just started out earlier practicing those traits.

A New Best Friend

Chapter 7

When I was young I did my best to play hard every spare minute I had. It didn’t really matter to me if I had a friend because my imagination was so broad. However, the friends I had were always ready to play whenever our parents would let us. I was pretty blessed to have the friends I did growing up.
When my older sister Megan started dating her husband Mica I was about ten years old. I have to add this was the height of my pestering ability as a little brother. I have no idea why she decided to bring me into her relationship with Mica’s family but I sure am glad that she did. It turned out that Mica had a younger brother named Hyrum who is two days younger than me. He was a year behind me in school, so at this point I had never met him. They decided to introduce us to each other and see what happened from there.
In the place of a normal invitation to play Hyrum called one day to invite me to go to Provo with his family to visit his Grandma. To this point I had yet to meet Hyrum face to face. It might have been an odd request but my mom was already on board behind the scenes. Hyrum and his family picked me up the following day early the next morning and I rode all the way to Provo squished in the middle of the backseat. We stopped in Park City to shop at the outlets where Hyrum’s mom Susan bought Hyrum and I matching tank tops. This may sound a little weird but neither of us took off the tank tops the entire weekend except to have the spilled spaghetti washed out of them. And that is the beginning of our friendship.
We became basically inseparable from then on. We are still friends to this day. Our friendship has always been more like brothers than just friends. Like brothers we had fun at times and hated each other’s guts at other times. In the end we were always friends the next day. To illustrate this point I would like to share a story that still causes conflict to this day.
Hyrum’s family used to live within walking distance of Kelly Park. We would often go fishing in it’s ponds during the summer, but we never really played on the equipment. One winter we found ourselves in the park and found a stack of pallets. I still have no idea who they belonged to. Upon inspection we decided they would make a perfect fort.
We started to pack the newfound pallets the half a mile to Hyrum’s house. We ended up walking back and forth until we had carried all six pallets to his backyard. These weren’t your average pallets either. They were industrial strength with thick boards. It was actually a lot of work but we did it. On the last trip from the park we sat down to take a break. We happened to choose a spot next to a few fence posts consisting of railroad ties. Like most young boys we started to throw the rocks that weren’t covered with snow at the fence posts. I was seated a little bit behind Hyrum, but I had a clear shot at the post. The only problem I had were the winter gloves I was wearing. I picked up a rock that was a little bigger than the rest and started to throw when I felt the rock slip between my fingers. It then turned into one of those moments when life changes to slow motion. No matter how slow time was going I couldn’t do anything about what was about to happen. Hyrum sat there unsuspectingly when the large rock caught him square in the back of the head.
My first reaction to events like this is to normally laugh first then ask if they are ok. This was the wrong time to laugh, because it made Hyrum think that I had hit him with the rock on purpose. No matter how much I try to explain he to this day continues the feud of the rock that started that cold winter day almost 15 years ago. If we wouldn’t have been such good friends already the rock may have ended our friendship, but it still continues to this day. Maybe someday Hyrum will believe.