DON’T touch my potette

July 11th, 2005 at 10:41 pm by james

josie, intense

No more tipping potties out seruptitiously under public benches – we have a potette! Potty training reached critical mass yesterday, as predicted, with Josie forgetting that on Friday and Saturday she’d got treats for using the potty. Brilliant … only we wanted to go out for the day (in the glorious sunshine) and Josie’s potty resembles nothing so much as a mid-sized pink throne. Not even dad was going to be seen carrying that around Willows Farm visiting the animals. Michelle went out to get a portable one while Jo had her nap. There were none to be found. Boots had no potties at all. Of any description. Fearing a national crisis we tuned in to the emergency frequencies but found them consumed by the evacuation of Birmingham. We packed the functional bits of the Throne into a large backpack and went to Willows.

We had a great time, Josie displaying impressive prowess at bladder control, particularly on a rather long and crowded boat ride (sans Throne, which could have been all sorts of fun). Later we barbequed with Tony, Bev and Pippa. Sophie languished while Josie discovered newts, frogs and barbequed tuna. Lots of weekend pics in the gallery.

Today, to our great relief, Michelle located a potette: a contraption that folds out and takes a (hopefully) watertight plastic bag at its business end. I can’t help thinking that anything that can fold out must be able to collapse … . Jo’s stopped wetting her nappy during the day and will take herself to the potty quite happily now.

I was playing my usual guess-the-age-by-the-hair-colour game when I went out for lunch today (I think I’ve seen three mature women in London with any grey hair at all, I think it must be the water), when I realised that one of the other things we just accept without questioning is the continual surveillance going on just above our usual line of sight.

I started counting cameras. To qualify in my game cameras have to be mounted on walls or poles, have to be in front of you and directed in such a way as to effortlessly get a clear view of your face. Cameras side-on on the corners of buildings don’t count. Of course, I also had to remember to look for them, which was problematic today …

Forty three. I find that staggering. Fourteen just crossing the road to Pret and back to get a sandwich and the rest on a ten minute walk to the station. How many hundreds of thousands of hours of data do we all pop up in sporadically each week? Imagine how many times last week’s bombers pop up. They haven’t got a chance. I hope.

4 Responses to “DON’T touch my potette”

  1. badlard Says:

    We play the same game, though I haven’t got a number as large as 43 before. It’s a little creepy – all in the name of national security and all that jazz. It makes me feel quite uncomfortable, the thought of being caught on tape.
    Enjoying the poetry. Remember you already have a publisher.

  2. james Says:

    Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re not getting caught on tape much, tape’s too inefficient a storage medium for that much data :D

  3. Mark Says:

    I was always puzzled by the camera on Fleet Street at the junction with New Fetter Lane, it never seemed to be viewing the road. Does it still appear to be peering into the 1st floor window of the small book shop? That tape must really be worth watching.

  4. james Says:

    It is! And as a result couldn’t be counted unfortunately.

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