All that marble and still nowhere to sit

Everything in Italy is made of marble. In our house, every floor and even the stairs are covered in marble. So, you would think that in a country where marble is so readily available, someone would have figured out that it would benefit human kind if they used some of their marble to make some toilets. We have visited lots of places where the best they could come up with was this odd thing to stand on. There were handy grooves cut into the marble so you knew exactly where to put your feet, but yet there was nowhere to put your butt.

For men, this is not too big of a deal when out in public. They just stand and aim for the hole. For women, this is like being back in Girl Scout camp and having to dig your own hole then pray you keep your balance. I now understand why women in Italy where boots up to their knees. It's not actually for the fashion, they're using them as splash guards.

And you can't judge a building from the outside as to the type of facilites they will have on the inside. Even newer buildings are designed with the anti-toilet. How much does a toilet cost? It can't be THAT expensive. From now on, I think I'm going to refuse to pay the cover charge the restaurant charges if they don't have an official toilet.

Here is also the part of traveling in Italy that has been made the most interesting with kids. Unlike adults, who can hold bodily functions until they get home, three year-olds can't. When a three-year old says they have to go, you find them a place to go. The blessings of boys are definitely noticed until the fateful words, "I have to poop" are uttered. I opened the door to the restroom to find a hole in the ground. Fantastic. Now what? I ask my son if he can wait until we find another bathroom, but he has already learned that public bathrooms are not easy to find in Italy. Should I have him just poop in his pants? I can always throw away the underwear. Forget that, I have the only three year old who refuses to go commando. So, I become a human toilet seat. I crouch down in the small bathroom and basically hold up my kid so he can do his business. Not pleasant. The look on my face must have been priceless when I returned to the table, as DH didn't even ask, "How did it go?"

Ciao' for now!