I hate camping. I have only gone twice (once with the girl scouts and a port a potty right next to us, and once with no bathroom for hundreds of miles) and am not eager to go again. I am no longer that stupid.

But I own a camping toilet.

It’s on the floor of my bedroom. Why do we own a camping toilet you might ask? Because. I live in a one bathroom apartment with another bathroom using adult. It’s a bad situation, even though he is my husband and I have used the bathroom in front of him countless times.

You see, a few weeks ago, the Hubby was really sick, explosions from both ends, and it caused too much stress for my IBS stressed belly while he was monopolizing the bathroom. I decided I needed something as a back up other than a bucket in case I needed it. So a trip to Wal-mart and $70 dollars later, I own a camping toilet. And I feel so much better. The best $70 I have ever spent. I haven’t used it yet (I swear, not even once to just break it in), but it’s way better than a bucket. I just have to remember to hide it when company comes. I am really not sure why it’s still in the middle of my floor. Maybe some day we’ll put it away…