The Highback Potty
It looks well-used doesn’t it? This potty has been around the block a few times, I would say.
It’s the worn label – not removed but eroded over time – and the scratch marks around the rim which speak to me of a hard-working potty, one which has done its time, carried a load. Bravo potty.
Now it’s time to kick back, take it easy, accepting nothing more than soft showers of rain and leaves falling delicately from the sky. You’ve earned it.
Unless of course you get called into action again, summoned to resume those onerous duties once more, in which case I expect you to do so without complaint, without a hint of protest at having to perform one of the dirtiest jobs around.
Because, after all, what is the point in whinging about it? We are all assigned our roles in life – by choice or design – and much as we might at times cavil or chafe at the burden placed upon us, it serves no purpose. We do what we do. To do anything otherwise would mean becoming something else altogether – and very few achieve that, the complete repudiation of who and what they are in order to become something new. It’s too hard, too fraught with danger.
So suck it up, old son. You were born a potty and you will die a potty (unless, of course, someone picks you up and decides to use you as a plant pot holder or a wine cooler, in which case please ignore all of the above).
Do you want to read more about potties? If so, this is the place to go.