Toilet Envy

When we moved in June I lost my off-the-master-bedroom private bath. Granted, our new room (a converted double garage) is larger than the studio apartment I lived in when I was in college, and we’re more than comfortable as far as space. The ONLY thing it lacks, in my opinion, is a bathroom. I don’t care if we don’t have a kitchen. One of those is plenty for a combined household. Who wants a sink to scrub and an oven to clean, anyway?


But a bathroom? Bathrooms are private places, where we participate in the most intimate of daily rituals… bathing, shaving, exfoliating, micturating and defecating … besides flossing, eyebrow plucking, zit popping and all the rest of the human activities we’ve (wisely) relegated to the bathroom. Bathrooms, by function, if not by definition, should be convenient and private, in my opinion.

There are two bathrooms in this house. One upstairs and one downstairs. The upstairs bathroom is 39 steps from my bed. The downstairs bathroom is 40 steps away, without taking into account having to go down the stairs and up the stairs.

Since adding on a bathroom is financially out of consideration, I’ve researched all sorts of other options. (Just to pee, mind you. I can walk 40 steps to do the other.) Going outside? Too cold, and we DO have predators like bears and cougars in the area you simply don’t want to expose your hiney to in the wee hours of the morning. Chamber pot… icky. And I’m pretty sure I couldn’t fit one under the bed.

I’ve researched camp toilets online, and come up with what seems like the most viable option. The “Luggable Loo.” A 5-gallon bucket with a potty seat on top. I figure if fill it with kitty litter it should work as well as a litter box, right? And if I put a screen around it, like those old-fashioned dressing rooms, it’s mostly private.


It’s still a weird idea. Still uncomfortable. Still requires me to adapt. But… adaptation is good for us, right? Being uncomfortable isn’t harmful, it just requires us to make adjustments. Maybe my body will adjust and quit demanding a potty trot at 2 a.m. Meanwhile, I might just design a human litter box.

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