My older sister and I grew up hunting with our dad. He could not get out of the house without taking us with him. Our mom always says we got more excited about hunting season than we did for Christmas. She is probably right. I didn’t put it together back then when we were spending time with my dad that he had an IBS problem and a love for porta-potties. And possibly I would turn out the same way.
We were dog hunters, meaning we pursued deer with hound dogs. We hunted a large tract of land managed by the state of Florida. It was public land, they called it the “management area”.
We were fortunate enough for a few years to lease a few hundred acres of private land that connected to the management area. We called this piece “the lease”. The piece of land, prior to us was used as a hunting camp. We planned to use it just the same.
IBS and porta-potties
The lease had a nice pole barn and an old porta-pottie. I think this was the selling point for my dad. As a teenager, I just didn’t see it the way he did. I remember the guys scouting for the best place to relocate the porta-pottie.
When they made their minds up of a prime location and got the thing moved, they first dug a deep hole. The porta-pottie didn’t have a holding tank, it was made for shitting in the woods. So the plan was for the deep hole to be the holding tank. Kind of like old times.
Once you did your business you would sprinkle lime in the hole. The lime was to keep the smell down and the bugs away. This was a thing that was done back in the day before running water. My dad remembers using the outhouse at his grandmas house when he was a kid.
Dad would need to stop at the lease every morning on our way to the management area. To check a deer feeder or food plot? No. He needed to use the porta-pottie. It was like his own personal bathroom. I am not too sure that anyone other than he used it.
Things you know now
This drove me crazy. Could he not just shit at the house before we left? *Remember, I didn’t have any IBS issues at this point in my life, so I couldn’t understand. This porta-pottie was his beacon in the night.
I understand it now. When I see a porta-pottie I have a sense of ease. Even if I am not in an emergency situation. Just knowing that a bathroom is near if I have a problem.
I wonder if there is an average age when the point in life comes that you realize that you have turned into your parents?
You would never be able to get it through to a kid, that maybe they would turn out the same way. Have the same gut issues. They would know where every bathroom was in every store.
Do you have something that brings a sense of ease when it is in close proximity?
