2008 Olympic Summer Games...I can relate

As we all know, the opening ceremony to the Beijing Summer Games was amazing and the world was in awe. But the magic turned to shock in the days to follow as we all learned of the deplorable conditions of the participants. The whole "not cute enough to be seen" child vocalist, only two meals in a 48 hour period, having to stand for hours, 22 hour straight rehearsals going through the night and the most shocking...NO BATHROOM BREAKS. Apparently the Chinese couldn't waste time with human bodily function so they issued adult diapers as a solution to forcing the performers crap themselves, which would stain their expensive costumes, costing the chinese government a fortune on cleaning costs.

Was this action of refusing bathroom privileges impinging the performers' human rights? That I cannot say, but I can tell you that experiencing that feels like you have no human rights. I say "it feels" because this is one issue I can empathize with...

I was five years old. My family was traveling the 1200 miles to visit my grandparents in Missouri for a family reunion. Back in those days, we would put the center seat down in our red Suburban and all five kids would lounge around with no seat belts on, watching movies on the 13" TV we'd strapped down with bungee cables as we fought and argued our way across the plains.

My Dad was like many men on road trips, eager to make good time and break the last trip's record. So when I piped up that we needed to stop for a bathroom break I was told I had to wait until someone else needed to go too. Luckily for me, my older sister, Heather also joined in that she needed to tinkle. Parental backfire.

What happened next, let me preface by my current sympathy to the parents that dare stop on a road trip. From our trips we've taken our nieces and nephews, it seems before you shift to "park" they are already in the gas station, knocking over displays (wait that was me last month), playing arcade games, spilling their fountain drinks...30 minutes later you're rounding them up to get back on the road. I guess with kids there is rarely a quick pit stop. Nevertheless, I don't expect small children to be denied the right of a toilet to meet their bladder's needs.

So back to 1990. My Dad was really irritated with his two little daughters demanding bathroom privileges when he was making great time. We were in the very back seat. I was looking out the window grateful that Heather's bladder and my bladder were in synchronization so we could stop the next chance available. Ahead was an exit, I focused on it like an oasis in the desert, expecting to be able to relieve myself soon. As the Suburban sped by my bathroom opportunity I wondered if Dad forgot. All the sudden something soft and plastic hit me, tossed back by my Dad. "Jess and Heather--just pee in those diapers."

WHAT?? Luckily for my Dad, and unlucky for me, the youngest in our family, Herschel was still in diapers. "I can't pee in a diaper Dad. Please just stop!" I pled, warily unfolding the plastic. My Mom encouraged: "Come on Scott. Just pull over and let them pee." It seemed by this time Heather was already folding her urine-filled diaper up in the chubby triangle shape and securing it shut with the sticky tabs. She passed it up to the other siblings, who were obviously not eager to handle the pee diaper, so then the game of "hot potato Heather's pee diaper" ensued until Mom's athleticism saved the day by her catching the flying pee diaper. I remember my Dad laughing and everyone discussing the weight of her diaper and how much urine could a diaper really hold.

In the mean time, little Jessica was in the back almost in tears from her awful situation. I started whimpering: "Dad please stop I can't do it!" By now everyone else in the car was annoyed and my older brother shouted: "Jessica just pee in the diaper and get it over with!" My Dad: "Come on Jess. Heather can do it...so can you." Heather: "Jess it's easy. You just sit on the diaper and whizz." Silent tears squeezed out my eyes as I tried to maneuver the diaper into my pastel pink sweat bottoms, all the while all my family around me telling me to just whizz away. My brother tried to rationalize: "Jess. At least you get to pee sitting down like you're used to. Dad makes me pee in the Gatorade bottles when boys are used to peeing standing up...so I have it worse than you. Just pretend that diaper is a toilet." It seemed only my Mom was on my side.

I sat on that diaper for what seemed to my bulging bladder miles and miles, crying first but gradually building to full bawling.

I was a shy little kid and I would have a problem whizzing in front of everyone in the car, but being the center of attention made it impossible. Finally my Mom demanded: "Scott you are stopping this car so she can go pee." Finally giving in, my Dad suggested: "OK, we'll stop up here on the side of the road." My bawling advanced to wailing--"I can't pee on the side of the road Dad! [sob, sob, sob] I'm not a boy!" So we finally stopped at a rest stop. My Mom went with me while the rest of the family stayed in the car...I guess because everyone peed already in their diaper or Gatorade jug.

By the time I finally had a chance to sit on a toilet, I'd held it so long I couldn't pee. So I just sat there crying for a while longer in pain while my Mom tried to settle me down.

Eventually my little body was able to relieve itself and I felt much better.

I got in the car and everyone started to make fun of me for being the little princess that just had to have a toilet in order to go pee. I was such a high maintenance five year old, not willing (or able in my circumstance) to urinate in a moving vehicle into a diaper with Man From Snowy River blaring in my ear and my brother's stinky feet in my face. So sorry to make that trip full of family fun 10 minutes longer.

So...ya. I know how bad it must have been for all those Chinese people having to wear diapers when they knew tons of bathrooms were a walking distance away. I think my Dad would fit right in as a Chinese diplomat. And, honestly, it could have been worse. I have a friend who's dad would take a camping port-a-potty in their van for everyone to use. She said when anyone had to go #2 they would hear it from the whole family the rest of the trip. So at least my Dad would allow toilets for bowel movements I guess.