How the Squatty Potty Has Me Doubting Everything I’ve Ever Learned

It started as a joke. I had never heard of this thing called the Squatty Potty, but anything with such a name must be investigated. When I went to Amazon and read the reviews, I was hooked – laughing my butt off. I slowly found myself believing that this might be a revolution in elimination. As a sample, I offer this haiku left by a satisfied user:

“Oh Squatty Potty
You fill me with endless joy
Yet leave me empty.”

There are many more – some that will make you howl with laughter and maybe pee a little, although the squatty potty won’t help with that. My research even led me to Dookie the Unicorn and this compelling ad:

Then I saw the price and this is where I leave you. I am not about to spend $25 on a piece of plastic no matter how funny and glowing the reviews! I made my final decision and thought it was over. Along came Christmas. I’m one of those people who is impossible to buy for. My dresser is full of bright t-shirts with pithy sayings. This year, my daughters went in together and, you guessed it, wrapped up a Squatty Potty for me. It was a joke, but no one’s laughing now.

Everyone tried it and let me just say, it works – Big Time! Believe the hype. I’ll spare you the details unlike some of those hysterical reviewers.

I do, however, have some major complaints.

First – Toilet time for a man with four children has always been somewhat sacred. I have done some of my best thinking in the lavatory and believe that I could have solved some of the world’s greatest problems had life not beckoned. And now it is gone. Average time with this product leaves just a few seconds for coherent thought.

Second – The thing is like a magnet. We have four toilets in the house and yet I find everyone moving to and in mine. The packaging should include a lock for the door.

Finally, and most importantly – Using the toilet was one of the first things I learned to do way back when my feet dangled from it. Now at the age of forty-nine I have discovered that I have been doing it wrong all along. What’s next? Is this an isolated situation? What else am I blundering?

  • Have I been breathing wrong all this time? Maybe if I had learned better I could breathe underwater… or through my ears.
  • Perhaps I walk wrong and if I perambulated differently, I could do it faster… or longer… or on my hands.
  • Would my penmanship could be neater if I had learned with my feet?

 

This is where I have a major issue with the Squatty Potty! It has me doubting everything I’ve ever learned. The very foundation of my life’s instruction has been shaken to the core by a little stool – okay, a lot of stool – and I’m not sure how to reconstruct my existence.

The Price of a Life

I’ve been driving the same road to work for about five years. It’s a monotonous route, filled with other motorists who seem to need to get to their destination quicker than I do. Sometimes I like to mess with them and settle in beside a driver who has the unmitigated gall to drive at the speed limit and not twenty miles per hour over.

Slow down people – life’s too fast!

New communities are popping up along the road because this is metro Atlanta where we hate greenspace. There was this charming little blue house right next to the road that most likely housed the farmers who originally owned a lot of the now-developed property. It had a covered porch with scrolled lattice trim where I can picture they sat in rocking chairs after a long day in the fields. If you looked behind it, you could even catch a glimpse of the matching outhouse. Then one morning as I drove to work, I noticed that it was gone. I don’t mean it had fallen over… it was gone – like it never existed. Read More