Small Bladders and Good Karma

One of the zillion things I cherish about Arizona, in addition to his spider-relocating skills, kindness to cats and easygoing nature, is that he never rolls his eye when I announce that I need a ladies’ room—or, if we’re out in nature, a ladies’ tree. Which is fortunate, as I have a bladder approximately the size of a walnut. Any of you who have road tripped with me can attest to this fact.

Anyway, we recently acquired the World’s Biggest TandemKayak (click to read about how we got it home), and have taken to spending hours on the water, either trolling up and down the salty river near our house, or taking to the open-ish waters of the sound. Which, when you’re in a kayak (and thus can’t easily hike any body parts over the side), makes the whole ladies’ tree thing problematic.

Fortunately, Arizona has a healthy respect for the Great Whites that patrol the waters of Cape Cod to our north, so he doesn’t expect me to man up and jump overboard. (He also probably suspects I would roll the kayak—and all of our gear—when trying to climb back aboard. Because that’s how coordinated I am.) Thus, he’ll find me a landing spot with a bit of shelter, even when he’s in the Fishing Zone.

The Fishing Zone, for those of you unfamiliar with this particular fugue, involves glazed eyes, selective hearing, and a singlemindedness of purpose rivaled only by, say, a diehard romance fan the day her favorite author’s new book is released. (Or is that just me when an ‘In Death’ book comes out?) When Arizona and I were first getting to know each other, he brought me to his grandparents’ house, introduced me to his mother and her husband, and promptly disappeared into the fish room to organize lures. (I am very lucky in all my in-laws, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. But since I had gotten used to him being very attentive, I was like, ‘Whaaa?’)

Now, mind you, I use the term ‘fishing’ loosely in reference to what we’ve been doing in the kayak, as there hasn’t been much (any?) catching going on. Thus it was a huge coup when, this past weekend, as we headed for shore to find me a ladies' rock, Arizona caught himself a large striped bass, thereby ensuring us many weeks of fish tacos, grilled bass, fish soup, etc. And later, when we landed the World’s Biggest Kayak back by the car and the guys near the dock flocked over to take pictures of his catch, my wonderful husband turned to me and said, “Any time you need to tinkle, you just let me know.”

So there it is, ladies. I now have carte blanche. Perhaps I’ll even turn out to be some sort of organic fish finder, with my bladder guiding us to the choicest spot. But for now, I’ll simply be grateful for my guy … and go find another recipe for striped-bass-somethingorother. Cheesecake, maybe?

How about you? Are you a camel, or a tiny tanks who has to pull in every other rest stop? Any funny stories to share?