Rex (my oldest) started Kindergarten this fall, catapulting me into a whole new world of elementary school parents, book fairs, curriculum nights, fundraisers, picnics, and parties.  Having no idea what I was getting myself into, I signed up to be one of two “room mothers” for his classroom.  I actually didn’t even know what a room mother was when I signed up, but I thought, What the hell. I’m gunna be at this school for a while, might as well get involved, right? My first responsibility was to attend the years’ first PTO meeting. Bring it on.

I arrived ten minutes early and I waited in my car until people started heading in, mostly because I didn’t know where I was going, but also because I didn’t wanna be the really eager uncool new mom all early and lame. I followed some women into the school, down the hallway toward the library, and eventually into the bathroom. I figured I should take their lead and go before the meeting started. I had just chugged a diet coke and had no idea how long these things were anyway.

There were four stalls, and I grabbed the open one.  I sat on the toilet and placed my bag on the floor next to me.

Now, here is where it gets tricky.  I mean, there are some obvious things that could have gone wrong in this moment, I suppose.  But I promise you, what I did, you will not see coming.

As I started to pee I glanced down at my wide-open purse and saw the confetti balloons I had purchased for my daughter’s first birthday party the following week.  I bought a package of twenty on Amazon, dropped sixteen of them at the party store to be filled with air and picked up for the party, and I had thrown the remaining four back in my purse. Right when I looked down and saw them, my brain actually thought this thought, “Wow, I actually don’t know what the confetti looks like in the balloon when it is blown up.  I should blow it up and see!”  And then before I could think anything else, I grabbed one of the balloons, and started to blow it up.  So, there I was, SITTING ON THE TOILET AT MY FIRST PTO MEETING, BLOWING UP A BALLOON.

I blew it up quickly actually, and when it was finished I was very happy with it!  I sat there, marveling at the metallic confetti and feeling excited about how cute these were going to look at my daughters’ party.  And then I remember having this quick thought, “well, now I have to deflate the balloon” and, before I was able to let any logic into my brain, I let go, and let the air out.

Now please pause for a just a moment and imagine what it sounds like when you let the air out of a balloon.  YUP.  Exactly

I was frozen. Mouth wide open. Dead. Unconscious. Why the fuck did I just do that? Who am I? Why am I allowed to have children? HELP. ME.
But really, what’s the fucking plan now?! I mean, I can’t walk out of the stall and turn to my almost-new PTO friends and say, “Oh, no, no. That wasn’t what you thought it was.  I’m actually a perfectly healthy person with no stomach issues or bowel problems, I just blew up a balloon while I was peeing and then I let the air out of it.  That’s what you heard!” Like, WHAT?! Am I a clown? A balloon?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?! No.

So, I did the only thing I could do.  I got up, walked out, washed my hands, and went to the meeting.  And since I basically blacked out in the stall, I have no idea which moms were even in the bathroom with me, or what was discussed at the meeting. Oh, and I still have no idea what a room mother is.

And to think I was worried about being early.

Samm Davidson
I am the mom of three perfectly chaotic little crazies— Rex (5), Rocky (3), and Bizzy (1). (Don’t think the girl was a mistake, I squirted lemon juice up my vag to get her after having the two boys.)  I am also the wife to a kinda funny and really supportive guy named Matt.  Once upon a time I was an attorney, but right now I am momming pretty hardcore.  I love Justin Bieber, the poop emoji, Deep Eddy Vodka, online shopping, sparkly shit, DJ Pauly D., Starbucks Lattes, peace signs, and my electric blanket.  I am new to the solo blogging world with my freshly live site,


Wannabee BLUNT

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