Missing.

I miss my bladder.
Don't get me wrong - nobody took it out of my body. It's just my bladder was the bladder I had before kids. This current bladder - not mine.
It belongs to an knat or some other teeny, tiny creature.

Let me explain. This past weekend was my annual trip into movieland. I get to go to a premiere and post party that (in my mind) rivals the Oscars. It's luxurious, fancy and fun.
Getting dressed up is such a rare treat for me. Admittedly my marker is low - washed hair and brushed teeth low.
So this really is a treat.

I jetisoned the kids to my sweet blogger friend Mosey and began the long journey that is transforming myself from woman in sweats and a pony to red carpet glam.

One of my favorite parts of the whole event is dress spotting. So many gorgeous women in so many different dresses.
I followed (not in a stalkerish way) one particularly pretty, slinky, silver dress into the bathroom.

I will guess that the occupant of the dress was younger than me but not by decades.
We settled into neighboring stalls.

I wasn't intending to listen but you know, a half inch of formica with an eight inch gap at the bottom doesn't hide much.
She peed like a horse.
I imagined several gallons exiting in under 5 seconds. Impressive.
I on the other hand, with my post partum body, felt like I had several gallons to expel - but only managed to squeeze out about a half cup full in around one minute.
After resting my poor, tired, overworked bladder - I was able to add a tablespoon or so.

Exiting the stall I found that slinky silver was long gone. She was probably gulping champagne straight from the bottle. No problem for her to 'hold it' during the movie screening.

So, there I am, a guest at a wonderful event. In a pretty dress of my own. As much food and drink as I care to consume all around me. Dancing, gambling, schmoozing - more fun than any one person has the right too.
What am I doing?
Lamenting the loss of my bladder.

I *may* be missing the point.