Why a considerable number of the people of Barbados now know that I relieved myself in their ocean
As you may or may not know, my family lives in Trinidad, a small island in the Caribbean. Because of this, we spend a lot of time on the beach -- we live about 15 minutes away from one of the more popular ones on the island. And while my 2-1/2 year old daughter Alex is potty trained, ever since she finally got the hang of it, she's been a little disconcerted as to how to relieve herself when we're on the beach, due to (a) the scarcity of public facilities, and (b) the general nastiness of public facilities. So, like any good mother would, I've been showing her how to go to the water's edge, dip her bum into the small waves, and pee (oh stop, you'd do the same).
This past weekend, our family visited the neighbouring island of Barbados, to attend a friend's wedding, held on Sunday. We arrived late Saturday morning, and, as expected, our hotel room wasn't ready. We decided to wait for the room relaxing on the considerably populated beach in front of the hotel. As you might expect, after a few hours, Alex had to go. Given the inconvenience of determining whether our room was ready at that time, I took her to the water, sat her down on her haunches, and she did her thing.
Inspired by her performance, I took her back to her father, and said, "Stay with Daddy. It's Mummy's turn." I returned to the ocean, swam past the breakers, did my business and eventually returned to the shore. When I reached the lounge chairs, my husband Marcus was smiling at me.
"Did you hear your daughter calling you?"
"No, I didn't."
His grin widened.
"While you were out there, your little cherub was screaming loud enough for everyone to hear:
'SQUAT, MUMMY!!! YOU HAVE TO SQUAT!!!'"
Contributing Editor Karen Walrond blogs about these and other embarrassing moments at her personal site, Chookooloonks, where this post was originally published.