Please Urinate In The Receptacle.

My aunt V tells a story about one of her sisters who was sick, and had to go to the doctor. The nurse kept asking her to "please urinate in the receptacle." When the sister kept asking "huh?" apparently the nurse assumed there was a breakdown in HEARING rather than a breakdown in UNDERSTANDING. Finally, the nurse resigned to the indignity of vulgarity and total slang: "Just pee in the cup."

My baby cousin Minimeems (meems' little sister) has a strong personality and is also traumatized by things like peeing in cups. She is sick and the doctor is requiring a cup of pee from a 3 year old before prescribing medicine. My aunt J noted last night that the term "pee in a cup" was being used a lot in the house lately. Ew, what three year old wouldn't be totally disturbed by this concept? Of course she's screaming like a banshee about it.

As she kicked and screamed about this, and her parents gently tried to coax/bribe her into peeing in the damn cup...I just sat there watching (I'm of great help) and observing...the simple understanding MM lacks about the horrible event descending upon her for NO reason. Her parents are desperate to help her feel better, and this is all for MM's own good. She has no idea, and OH the stink she was making about this attempt to help and heal her.

It must be what our own higher power feels like as He watches us kicking and screaming over the things He does to us that feel so mean. Do I think losing Rbf is = to peeing in a cup? Not so much. But I'm guessing there's something more to all of this that we don't know. Aside from being totally trite, I also realize I'm being redundant because I've touched on this before. But it can't hurt to revisit the notion, can it?

I honestly don't know what benefit there is to this heinous part of my life, and the lives of the rest of the Mingo family. I do understand that when my magical day comes and I enjoy my rebirth into the next plane of existence...I'll be decked out with strength, with battle scars, and the dignity that comes from surviving a lifetime punctuated with trauma. We all end up "there" anyway, whether we make that transition out of young strong bodies like Rbf's, or old ones that faded out slowly with time and wear. I have no idea what this is about, what reward there is for me waking up every morning, rubbing my eyes, and remembering that this is my life now...for the disappointment life has ended up being to me, and how I try my hardest to embrace it anyway. It better be something cooler than an antibiotic.

Aunt J and I went to grab dinner after the unsuccessful pee-in-the-cup exchange, and left MM with her dad. We returned a couple hours later to quiet. My uncle T was exhausted defeated and sick, laying in bed, when he overheard MM playing with her dolls in the next room. The dolls were having their own exchange. MM narrated the dolls' dialogue. One doll was trying desperately to convince the other doll that she needed to go pee pee in a cup. The other doll resists.

This child is so adorable it hurts. She is paying attention to what's happening to her. She may not have a greater understanding, but she did have trust - to some degree - her parents' efforts on her behalf.

And before the end of the night, MM urinated in the receptacle.