Roughing It

The MiL decided it was time to overhaul the upstairs bathroom. I suppose it was time, seeing as it hadn't been done since, oh, maybe the 1940s and there is still (STILL) a hole in the floor from when the last plumber was working up there. SIX YEARS AGO.

Anyway. I'm sure it will be very nice to have a hole-less, modernized bathroom, but in the meantime, I'm going to be peeing in a bucket tonight.

Lemme 'splain.

The other toilet upstairs is in Charlie's room. I do not enter Charlie's room when he's sleeping, for obvious reasons of waking the dragon.

That leaves the downstairs toilet, which is a looooong way from our bedroom. But whatever. It's a toilet. So it's a long walk a couple of times a night (pregnant, remember?), but at least it's a toilet and it's indoors.

However.

The MiL's friend is staying with us tonight, in our guest bedroom downstairs. This is the room through which you must pass to get to the downstairs bathroom. This means that between the guest sleeping and Charlie sleeping, we do not have an available toilet overnight tonight.

My options were either to go outside, which presents some problems related to darkness and aim and so forth, or pee inside in some other receptacle. I briefly considered getting out one of Cubby's little toilet training potties, but then I decided it's too small and low. Still with the aiming problems.

And that is how I came to be carefully placing a small bucket upstairs in the back bedroom with a roll of toilet paper as my makeshift middle-of-the-night bathroom. At least there's a light in there. And it's inside.

Low standards: I am all about them.

A.P.D.--Baking vs. Cooking Edition

I have never been good at following directions. I was always that student being reminded to read the directions carefully, because I never did. Too impatient, I guess.

I suppose this is why I'm such a hilariously deficient baker.

I regularly forget to add the baking soda, or use twice as much butter as a recipe calls for, or something similarly ridiculous.

I also don't like following recipes when I cook, for the same reason. Although with cooking, there's a lot more room for error. I'm a good cook, mostly because I hardly ever follow a recipe, which means I can't really screw up too badly.

So I suppose what it comes down to is that I'm much too feckless to be a good baker, but cooking is sloppy and imprecise enough that I can get away with it.

And now, my lovelies, let's hear from you. Are you a skilled baker? An accomplished cook? Or do you avoid them both and rely instead on the supermarket for your food?