OK now, this is getting out of hand...
My Mom tried to get us boys to pee while sitting, not that she was a single Mom or domineering (she wielded an effective wooden spoon to chase us off from climbing the furniture, but if some real dastardly craft had been developed, it was always "Wait until your Father gets home!") but simply that we lived in a rusticly styled home, and the walls in our house including the bathroom were solid tongue in groove planking, and there was no way to get the pee smelliness completely out after badly aimed effort.
I found that after trying the sit method, I wasn't getting full relief, I'd finish the sit method, stand up and feel like there was a little bit more unfinished business. I reported my findings to my brother who agreed that it was not proper for a boy to pee like a girl, but that we should endeavour to perfect our aim as no reasonable person would argue against a bathroom wall free of pee-stains.
We developed pee aiming accuracy as a sport, first using the target-in-the-bowl-weapon-ranging technique. The idea was to put something really floaty into the bowl and then piss forcibly down upon it, tracking its bobbing attempts to re-surface and trying to keep it underwater for the entire duration. You can believe me, keeping a wine cork well down does develop the hand-eye-penis coordination.
However successful our efforts at accuracy were becoming, this form of training was not achieving the desired outcome of a clean bathroom wall, a fact that was brought to bear through a stern wooden spoon reminder. My brother and I modified our sport of peeing accuracy to include our Mothers frank talk about how a man can find the quiet spot on the upper zone of the bowl side to make the flow "Swoosh" splashlessly down into the awaiting waters below. Now the game was to see who could get the most bowl rotations out of the floating bit we would place near the waters edge.
As with anything my brother and I did together, the competition elaborated, soon we were placing two pieces of identically floaty bits (small flecks of cedar wood performed admirably) at opposite sides of the bowl, and we would try to get one piece to catch up and lap the other one. The games finally culminated when we would both stand at the bowl and attempt to co-join our streams at the point of best swirl contact and get the bowl water positively racing.
The plank wall was, of course, eventually covered over with an easily sanitized arborite cladding.
Eric
