My mother practiced bowl management when we traveled. A few years ago I was talking to my sister about my mother. Something about my mother taking us somewhere came up and my sister said,"She [my mother] was the president of the Go before you Go club". Here are a couple examples of the clubs activities:
Up until the age of 7, my sisters and myself always got an enema, in the morning, before we went to Aunt Marjory's house. That was a 3.5 hour drive. One time, we had to unexpectedly stay at Aunt Marjory's house. (car trouble) We all got an enema using Aunt Marjory's enema bag, before we left, the next day. I especially remember that enema because of all the things that were different. At home we had a red enema bag with a red hose and a black adult rectal nozzle. Aunt Marjory had a yellow bag with a white hose with a douche nozzle. At home we got our enemas in the bathroom. Aunt Marjory had a small bathroom off the kitchen with a toilet and small sink. (I think they had converted the room where her ice box was into a bathroom when she got an electric refrigerator. When you got an modern electric refrigerator you showed it off by putting it in the kitchen for all to see.) Her real bathroom (sink toilet and tub) was upstairs. My mother gave us the enema, at Aunt Marjory's house, in the kitchen, over her lap. Aunt Marjory held up the enema bag. I was chosen to go first. (usually I went last) The douche nozzle was lubricated with Vaseline. (At home we used cold cream.) I do not know if it was because I was nervous, the different shaped nozzle, my mother had never given an enema with that setup or that my Aunt may have been holding the bag to high but I had a lot trouble taking that enema. Small squirts of water kept leaking, out of me, past the nozzle. My two sisters and my four cousin were all in the kitchen watching. My oldest cousin was asking why I was not being spanked for letting the water leak out. (Tells you a little something about how my cousin's enemas went.) When my mother decided I had had enough enema water, she let me up to go to the toilet. That was the largest audience I had ever gotten an enema in front of. Because of the different setup, I think she gave me a bigger enema than normal. I had a hard time not leaking during the time my mother made me wait before I got to ride Aunt Marjory's toilet and I dribble water out all the way to the toilet. It was the first time I got to poop at my aunt's house. Her toilet was higher than ours, sounded different when the water squirted out of you and the enema water splashed back more than at home. I did not like her toilet. While I was sitting there I remember hearing my mother and aunt discussing refilling the enema bag. I am not sure but, at home, I think my mother would fill the enema bag, give some of the bag to my little sister, put her on her potty chair and start on my other sister. I think there was still plenty of water, in the enema bag to fill her and get her sitting on the toilet. My turn was coming next. I can remember hearing my mother asking my sister if she was almost done. That usually meant it was my turn and she would call me in the bathroom, if I was not already in there. (Didn't want to miss the party) Sometimes the enema would be kind of cold. Those times, I guess, my mother had decided she could do three kids on one bag filling. Those cooler enemas were hard to take. They were also hard to hold if my mother had not gotten her timing right and my sister was still sitting on the toilet when my mother was done filling me. I remember playing musical toilet, with my sister a few times. Imagine the assembly line my mother could have got going if we more that one toilet, in our house. (This truly is the land of excess. My current house has more toilets in it that people living in it. Except of the bathrooms there is a TV in every room in the house. What percentage of the world would be happy to have a TV or toilet in their house. Interesting enough, the ones with neither will probably get the TV first.) This part about how many kids can you fill on one bagful is just a vague memory. I thing my mother had a phobia about pooping on toilets outside of our house. (Most of us have some small phobia about using public toilets.) I think my mother was also member of the "Go before you Go" club. I think I remember her giving herself an enema before we would go somewhere. We would not be in the bathroom when she was giving herself an enema but knew what was going on behind closed doors. We usually got enema-ed if we were going anyplace far away. Some time we also got enema-ed
if we were going to be out of the house all day, like going to the ocean beach or the county fair.
We went on vacation to Washington D.C., when I was 10. Every morning, before going out to the visit the monuments, museums and things, while still on motel, we all got our traveling enema. We all took turns laying on the bed, by the bathroom door, getting our enema. My mother made a big deal of not letting any enema water leak out and getting the bed wet. She said the motel maid would not like that. One morning I woke up early and hear my mother, in bathroom, filling the enema bag and giving herself an enema. I laid in bed and listened to the whole thing. When she was done, she woke us up and enema-ed all of us. I pretended to be asleep when she tried to wake me. I do not know if my father was a member of club. I don't remember him getting any enemas.
Years later I started my own chapter of the GO before you Go club. My ex's father had summer cabin, on a lake, in upstate New York. On weekends, her family would all get together at the cabin. Between grandparents, parents and kids and sisters and brothers sometimes there would be 20 people there. (bring your sleeping bag) It was a good time except for the bathroom. Water for the cabin came from a pump, that pumped water from the lake. It was a small pump and didn't have much volume or pressure. The septic system had a hard time keeping up with more that 5 or 6 people. Even when not overloaded the toilet didn't flush very well and the pump was so slow you really couldn't do a re-flush. The bowl always had part of the last users poo floating in it. Yuk. I inducted my ex into the Go before you Go club and we would give each other a good cleaning out before we went up to the cabin. (Thinking back I don't think my mother's club gave rinse enemas after the soap suds enemas.) Hopefully you could make it through the whole weekend without having to poop. My ex's sister lived in New York City and didn't have a car. Some times we would give her a ride to and from the cabin weekends. One time, on the ride home, her sister was complaining about "Terror Toilet" as it was called. My ex said something about the Go before you Go club. Her sister wanted to know more and my ex explained the details to her. She didn't think it was that bad of an idea, after using Terror Toilet, all weekend. I half jokingly asked her if she wanted to join the club and come to our pre-cabin-weekends meetings. She politely declined. (it would have been fun to have more club members present at meetings) I do know if any other of my ex's family member ever knew or figured out our little secret. Allot of them would mount an expedition to the Quick-Stop (load up the car with anybody that need to go and drive the 36 mile round trip on small country back roads), to use the facilities there instead of having to ride Terror Toilet.