Best Laid Plans and The Men's Room at Churchill Downs

What's that adage about making God laugh by telling him your plans?  Yeah, so the plan here on Dog Lady Horse Crazy was to launch Derby week.  Then life happened and here we are after the Preakness.  Le sigh.  

I was admonishing myself for my failure to launch when I wanted to, then started thinking about how many amazing things in my life have been when things have gone sideways and I had to fly by the seat of my pants.  Speaking of pants, a specific story about not peeing in them is what prompted me to think I might be clever enough to write this blog.  And I bet my poor parents didn't plan for me to have such a classy coming of age story to tell.. 

It all started one evening at the Derby Museum, where we were having The Kentucky Derby book launch party (because obviously).  As things were winding down and I got to sit and chat with my friends, the equally loquacious Heather (of HerKentucky fame) urged my to tell the group my potty training story.  Always eager to make people laugh, I launched into it.* 

In the fall of either 1986 or 1987**, I had grown tired of my new (or newish, depending on the year) baby sister and wanted to escape to Churchill Downs with my dad as he got ready to go.  A pragmatic man, DaddyShirc informed me that he would be delighted for me to join him - but he was not bringing a diaper bag.  According to him, I solemnly looked up at him and said, "Ok, I go."  

This was way after the day in this story..  I swear.

This was way after the day in this story..  I swear.

Fast forward, and he's in the betting line.  I had no doubt been preening over the attention I received as a small child on their best behavior at Churchill Downs.  I reached up and tugged his hand and with giant eyes said, "Daddy, it's TIME!"  He assessed the situation and decided to hedge the risk of his precocious child that adored adult admiration peeing themselves in public, and like any good gambler placed his bet before hustling me into the bathroom. 

Let me be clear; it was the men's bathroom.  Of 1980s Churchill Downs.  Before the revamps of today.  Regardless, I triumphantly used the toilet, didn't soil myself, and got to spend the rest of the day picking horses for my $2 show bets and proudly announcing that I had pee-peed in the potty.  

The love of horse racing runs deep in this family, clearly.

*(Heather insists that this story is proof that I have an interesting point of view and suggested it be an early blog post.  If anyone has similar potty training stories at Churchill Downs, reach out.  We can start a support group.)

**(there is a family argument about the date.. my Dad insists it was fall of 1986 and my mom insists it was 1987.  Seeing as how I would have been approaching turning 2 in the fall of 1986 and am in no way a savant, I am inclined to agree with my mother that perhaps it was the Fall Meet of 1987 and I was nearly 3 years old.)    

With my dad, at Turfway Park - long after I needed a diaper bag.

With my dad, at Turfway Park - long after I needed a diaper bag.

PS - I apologize for the lack of pictures in this post, I haven't been able to make any discernible headway into my mom's box o pics..