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Inspirational Reads

How I Learned to Become a Man

June 10, 2009

My maternal grandfather was, to say the least, an ornery sort. People today would probably say he was twisted, or had a sick sense of humor, or just that he was immature. I'm not sure I'd agree, but he definitely knew what amused him.

This is one of those stories.

Now, remember, I lived in a small town when I grew up. I might have mentioned it once or twice before. This was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else, and people knew shit before it went down.

So, apparently, my grandfather had been visiting one night, and I was outside doing stuff with him. I don't remember how it happened, but I'm guessing he was out working in the yard or around the house or something (he had lived there before we did, so he was familiar with the workings of the house). As it came to pass, my grandfather probably had to toss a whiz, and being outside, he did what any man does: he snaked it out and let 'er fly, hosing down the weeds out behind the garage.

I must have witnessed this, and most likely commented on it. And then my grandfather explained it to me as "Little boys like to pee outside." Which is true. Very, very true.

So, either the next day, or some time in the not-too-distant-from-the-event-future, I was out in my driveway playing. We had a big screen porch that overlooked the driveway, and my mother sat there spying upon the neighborhood watching me with a steely eye of death to make sure I didn't hurt myself or be abducted or eat cat turd or anything. Evidently, as I was out there playing, the urge struck me, so I dropped trou, snaked it out, and began hosing off the driveway.

My mother, aghast, probably uttered some syllable denoting horror, for I loudly proclaimed to the entire neighborhood "Little boys like to pee outside, Mommy!"

The only problem was, two old ladies from the church were walking past the house as I stood there, akimbo, jettisoning urine for all to see. By this time, my mother had curled into the fetal position on the floor of the porch, whimpering, because the old ladies would gossip about it at the church. That's what they did. It was their sole purpose in being.

That night, we went to visit my grandparents. Now, my maternal grandmother was fiery, to say the least. As my mother was relating the days events as it revolved around my urinary practices, my grandmother, without missing a beat, turned and started slapping the shit out of my grandfather. Without a confession, she knew who it was who had taught me that little boys like to pee outside.

My grandfather, for his part, laughed. And with that, I took my first steps on the path toward manhood.

21 comments:

Nej said...

I will forever be jealous of how easy it is for men to pee outside.

When we're hiking in the mountains and Mot steps off the trail for a quick pee.....he's always welcomed back to the trail with a jealous glare from me. :-)

Frank said...

I did that all the time. During camping trips, we'd pee on trees while hiking, as there were no bathrooms around. However, my parents failed to explain that this was only acceptable while camping. My mom had to come outside yelling more than once as she saw me peeing on the tree in our front yard, with lots of pedestrians and passing cars to see.

red said...

I'm with Nej. That may be the one thing I envy about men...well, that and your tendency to make more than me for the same damn job.

The Ambiguous Blob said...

This made me laugh!

Eric said...

What happened to 'leave nothing behind but footprints'? Nah, just kidding...

Soda and Candy said...

Hahahhaa, I like your nanna.

coolred38 said...

Killing shrubs with urine is what little boys like to do...there is always a spot outside a house with boys that looks a little more brown then the rest of the greenery.

Some Guy said...

We had a kid on our block growing up who used to poop in the middle of the street. I'm not sure which of his relatives he picked that up from.

Cora said...

You just reminded me of a garden urination event in my past which just might be blog-worthy. Thanks!

words...words...words... said...

Once when I was a teenager, I had stayed out too late and upon my return home I didn't want to wake my parents and thereby let them know how late I got home. So I peed in the side yard because I knew the flush would wake my dad.

Mr. Condescending said...

I still piss outside sometimes! Ill pull over a piss right on a sidewalk or an alley at night, seriously. Love it.

Eric said...

ps - Unrelated because indoors, but I once peed in a light socket when 3 yrs old, starting a small electrical fire which I remember vividly.

Phat Mama said...

First of all, Mr. Condescending cracks me up!

Second of all, I like both your Grandpa and Grandma.

Third of all, I never mind seeing a guy snake it out to pee - any gawk at a dick that I get is good in my book!

Fancy Schmancy said...

That's why I taught my son "back yard is good, front yard is not".

Chemgeek said...

After the birth of my 4th child and my first son, I told my wife, "finally, I have a child I can teach to pee outside." She did not think that was very funny.

But, as Fancy just said, "Back yard good, front is not."

Scope said...

I grew up on a farm. 5 people. One bathroom. Road that saw 4 cars pass a day.

I think I was in college before the "pee inside" passed the "pee outside" in the ledger.

LiLu said...

I LOVE your grandparents. I've been called "fiery" a time or two in my day...

dg said...

A few days after moving into our house in 2003, my older son (who was three at the time) whipped it out and produced a perfect Golden Arc of Glory, right on the front lawn. Naturally, a gaggle of neighbors drove by in time to witness my humiliation.

I was all, "Welcome to the 'hood, bitches!"

Moooooog35 said...

Just curious, but who's manhood did you end up stepping towards?

Lisa-tastrophies said...

Papa's are a great source of all the real things you need to know in life. Funny how it seems that Grandmothers always know where these little tid-bits of wisdom come from even when we aren't spilling the beans :-) My Papa past three weeks ago so this post was a nice little nod to Great Grandpa wisdom everywhere.



P.s. My blog address got revamped because of some cyber-screw up (just incase you were missing me and Lisa's chest :-) http://lisa-tastrophies.blogspot.com

Anna Russell said...

I love you grandfather for that. Really - so mean, but so worth the beating he got.