i am not ashamed of the fact that i use a bathroom rug as wall decor.

so, here is a fun story.

about a month ago i was wistfully daydreaming on the anthropologie website, in the clearance section {the only place i will allow myself to look on there because why depress myself??}....something i tend to do when i have a gloomy day....and came across a bathroom rug that i immediately fell in love with.

it was bright and colorful and i knew that on another randomly gloomy day, it would be just the thing to cheer me up.  {does anyone else have this thing with space in your home?  that when you put something in it that you just love it can change your mood faster than winona ryder can say "beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice?"  or is it just me?  i'm willing to stand alone in this, i'm just curious.}

anyway, even though it was on sale it was still a whole heck of a lot more than i would normally spend on bathroom rugs.  you know, the ones by the toilet, where little boys {and big boys, let's be honest} tend to um....miss, and spray?  or worse, but i will keep those details private.  

i usually go mucho cheapo for those rugs because they get washed a lot and wear out pretty quickly.  and who wants to see urine and fecal matter on something beautiful?  

well, that particular gloomy day let me give in to temptation and buy the rug online.  i couldn't believe i had done it, but i had.

when it showed up about a week later i opened the box and was immediately struck by the vibrance of the colors, exploding at me like rays of multi-colored sunshine bursting behind clouds.  the rug was titled appropriately, "fireworks" and i knew that even though it didn't make sense to put it where it could possibly be struck by a rainstorm of mostly-sterile-but-still-disgusting-bodily-fluids, i hugged the soft rug and whispered to it that i would never let it go.

but.

i lay it down on the floor for about a day.

and during the 24 hours it spent on the floor, i refused to walk on it and if caleb went into that particular bathroom i would roll it up off of the floor until he was finished, and then place it back down after he had left.

we just don't get nice things like this very often...and even though it was on sale i knew it would be a loooooong time before i could justify having to replace it in 6 months or so.  this is what happens you live in a destitute-like lifestyle as we have for so long.

i sat on the couch and pictured my lifetime chore of preserving the rug that way.  when guests came i could see myself opening the bathroom door and showing them the room, but as soon as they started to walk that way to provide their bladder relief, i would quickly run ahead of them... possibly throwing some elbows....shut myself quickly in the bathroom to roll up my precious fireworks rug and then emerge a moment later to allow them to do their deed.

it just wasn't going to work.

ben came home and i told him my dilemma, in my most dramatic, whatever-shall-i-do voice.  and i just may have underestimated that benjamin's brain because he came up with one of the most brilliant plans in our 8 year marriage together.  {right now it's a running tie between this current idea and the one that took place in the desert just a mere few months ago.  you be the judge.}

"why don't you just hang it on the wall?  that way you can still look at it but won't worry about people/kids/animals/random strangers you let in getting their um....poop on it?"  he said to me, half-joking.

i looked at him like he was crazy for a moment.

put a rug up on the wall?  could i do it?  no.  did i have the guts and the ability to fake trendiness in a oh-yes-we-always-hang-our-rugs-up-on-walls--doesn't everybody??--type of way??  

i doubted my abilities.

but i kept the idea in my back pocket for another day.  

and finally, after rolling up the rug about 5 more times, racing to get through the bathroom door before it closed on me, i decided to give it a go.

and i must say.  i think it works.  quite well.

and on the floor i replaced my fireworks explosion of color with a lovely $2.99 rug that looks like it belongs right where it is.  on the bathroom floor.  ready to soak in whatever comes it's way and be washed a billion times, like a sturdy champion.

here's a shot at the rest of the bathroom, if you're curious.  with little miss sassy pants discussing the meaning of life with her own reflection in the mirror.

that bennigans, i tell you what.  he has more tricks up his sleeve than i give him credit for.  anyone who chooses him as their psychologist in about 3 years is going to be oh so pleasantly surprised.

so there it is.

and i'm not ashamed that this is my wall decor.  i mean it's just a bathroom rug.  hung up on a wall.  

you should try it.  everybody who's anybody is doing it.

or at least that's what i tell myself.

the moment i realized his bachelor's degree wasn't just a waste of time.

hi.

let me paint a picture for you.

you're driving along, in the middle of nowhere, arizona.

listening to some good tunes, enjoying the road trip with your husband and two kiddos. the A/C is blowing your hair in a fantastic supermodel head-shot kind of way. you've just enjoyed some chocolate and a swig from your water bottle. you lean your head back against your seat, close your eyes and are letting the lyrics of a familiar tune take you away...

when suddenly
from the backseat, your 5 year old says,

"mom! i need to go poop!"

your head snaps up from its resting place and whips around to survey the situation.

"well buddy," you say calmly and with a twinge of hope in your voice, "we'll get off at the next exit. you're going to need to hold it for a minute or two."

and you hear the unfortunate reply,

"but i caaaaan't!"

quickly losing the twinge of hope, you then attempt the firm, there-is-no-other-option-so-you'd-better-just-hold-it-voice {also at the same time trying to channel a motivational speaker},

"HEY. you can do this, buddy. tell your body to listen to you. you are in control. mind over matter. we'll get there as soon as we can. come on, give it a try."

and you watch as your son squeezes his eyes shut in concentration. only to see a second later those same eyes pop back open as his rear end starts to raise off of his chair.

"it's not WORKING! my body is telling me that it needs to go poop NOW."

you and your husband steal worried glances at each other and realize the situation is dire.

so,

you see a small clearing off of the shoulder of the road.

your husband veers off immediately, tires screeching, and stops the car.

"what are we going to do?" you whisper with urgency in your voice. "hold his arms while he squats?"

and you can tell with the look that your husband gives you that there is no way he will volunteer for this job and you are going to be stuck with it.

not pleasant.

however, just in the nick of time, you are saved.

see, up until this point in your almost-8 year marriage, you have wondered when your husband's BA degree in recreation was ever going to serve useful in your combined life together. granted, he can roll up a sleeping bag quicker and tighter than most. he can recognize a poison oak rash from a mile away. he knows how to fashion a tourniquet out of twigs and twine and could probably survive several days if he were thrown to a barren wasteland bear grylls-style, partaking on only grubs, cactus meat and some random snake venom.

however, this was the time that...to reiterate...the degree became useful. to you.

your wilderness-savvy husband jumps out of the car and begins scouring the desert ground. you jump out and run around to rescue the 5 year old who now has beads of sweat forming on his forehead and is arching his back in an awkward position and lifting the edges of his t-shirt up and out of the way as if to say, watch out! this baby's going to blow!

you glance back at your fearless leader, wondering what in the world he is thinking and why in the world he is wasting so much time thinking it, when he yells out,

"this'll work!"

and you see that he's holding up two 3 foot sticks.

you might say that you roll your eyes in disappointment at his obvious fail. you realize that you're going to have to muster up the courage to do the hold-and-squat for your son without letting him see you dry heave when you see your husband then walk around to the trunk of the car and pull out the potty seat you have had in the back since this little adventure.

and suddenly you get it!

he is going to save the day!

you see this knight in bearded armor go behind a bush and start to dig a hole with one stick, then lay each stick down on both sides of the hole, and place the potty seat on top of the sticks.

then he turns around and with a triumphant grin says,

"wha-lah!"

and you don't care that his beard is now so long that it's starting to develop some serious curl, or that it's a thousand degrees outside, or that there is major dust in your eyes from the oncoming traffic breezing past you, or that your son still hasn't relieved himself.

you just want to make out with this miracle of a man standing before you.

and you stare at him with such admiration in your eyes that you're ready to renew your vows right there on the spot,

when you're quickly brought back to reality.

"MOM! its coming OUT!"

and you run to the strader-made porta potty and help get the little fella into the "go" position.

then, because you are an awesome mom, you take a picture.

or two.

until you're informed that he "needs his privacy" even though there is clearly none to be had. so you walk away.


meanwhile, these hooligans



decide to make the most of their time out of the car



and walk to the few surviving flowers in this climate to take pictures.








you join them for a minute, when you are called to return to duty to help "wipe" {a job no one wants to do}

and because you have been made acutely aware of the silver-dollar-sized black beetles



that seem to like the flowers as much as your daughter, you gratefully skip over to your son to assist him.

once it's all over with,

you are rewarded with a flower for being the best mom in all the world




and you smile.





and then plant on the mouth of your bearded wonder who put his degree to use today,

a reward of his very own.



********