Just Try

Remember when you were a kid and your mom would tell you to go use the restroom and you would protest? Usually, this nagging preceded a long car trip or a visit to a place without facilities. Usually, if you were like me, you whined something akin to "But I don't have to go."

My mother would end the ordeal by commanding, "Just try." And most times I would. And behold, my mama would be proved right. I did have to go.

And on the occasions that I resisted successfully and made the trip without the old school try, my mama was also proved right. I did have to go. Only, it was too late. 

Failure to learn from natural consequences showed my age. It wasn't until my thirties, when I had children of my own to harangue, that I saw the wisdom in my mother's words, "just try." 

Now, I'm slipping deep into my forties. Per my mother's example, I frequent bathrooms, not because I feel the urge, not because of a pending road trip, but simply because the opportunity presents itself. On advice of my mama, my motto is never miss a chance to make water. 

On a recent visit to my parents' place at the beach, I got a horrifying glimpse into my future, however. I questioned whether I was blindly following my mother's admonitions.

I think it really shows a person's age when she doesn't regard an unnecessary shower chair in the bathroom as an unusual accessory. My parents are robust and spry. The superfluous shower chair resides under a layer of towels. 

Nonetheless, my mother's comfort with its presence is entirely disconcerting. I've acknowledged her indisputable wisdom about just trying and taking the opportunity to go when chance presents it, but I think I'm going to have to whine about the shower chair, if for no other reason than to re-establish boundaries and steadfast resistance. I refuse to "just try" on this one.