It was inevitable that I would eventually write about poop.
After all, the word is part of the
name of my blog. I have written about periods
here, and surgery here, and gas here; but only touched on the “poop” subject here.
However, this story rocketed to the top of my “stuff to blog
about” list when my husband called me at work with a tale that needed to be
told.
Apparently there’s a light out in the bathroom he normally
uses at work. He found that out when he
went to use the facilities and there was no response when he flicked the light
switch.
Since he had to go, however, and since he was already there
(and his bladder somehow recognized that he was near a toilet) he needed to use
THAT bathroom. Right then. Immediately. Thinking quickly, he
whipped out his trusty 3G Droid smart phone, upon which his thoughtful wife
(that’s me) had installed a flashlight app.
Thanks to the bright light of his phone screen, he was able to find the
toilet stall in the dark, locate the bowl, remember where everything was and
tidy up accordingly, all by holding the phone with its handy flashlight under
his chin.
 |
| like this. except on your phone. |
That day, we had a good laugh over this when he called me to
tell me the story and thank me for the app.
Things deteriorated a few days later. Mr. Forgetful waited until it was almost too
late to make his frantic morning jog to the same bathroom referenced
above. This time, however, he was racing
against a couple cups of my strong coffee and his morning bran. He grabbed his phone almost as an
afterthought on the off chance he needed to make a phone call, text someone, check
the Cubs standings, or for the flashlight app if by some strange circumstance
the bathroom light was still out.
It was.
That’s fine, he
thinks, as he struggles to unbuckle and unzip quickly, as he ran in the general
direction of the stall door. I have my fancy phone with the flashlight
app.
However, for some reason, despite repeated, desperate
attempts to pull up the flashlight app, the app has disappeared and due to
extreme gastrointestinal pressure, he gave up trying to get it to work and
attempted to go it alone, in the dark. In
all the fumbling with his smart phone trying to get the app to work, though, he
has waited a little bit, a tiny bit,
a hair too late to get his pants down fully.
It should be noted that on the best of days, he is not Mr. Technology. Under pressure, however, his
difficulty with smart phones is exponentially worse.
If this were a bad script, I would at this point write
“hilarity ensues” but in all actuality he didn't find this at all hilarious, as
he was forced to go to the bathroom in the dark, then attempt to clean up after himself in the dark. Between you and me, reader, he has a
difficult enough time when it’s his OWN bathroom, with sufficient lighting to
rival the sun and a brand new container of baby wipes.
In the dark, cold, empty bathroom at work, he does the best
he can under the third world circumstances.
He is forced to make the drive of shame home and change
pants, losing yet another pair of undershorts to such an ordeal which, praise
God, seldom occurs.
.jpg "male underpants") |
| Kids, need a gift idea for Dad for Father's Day? |
Luckily, the badly mutilated underwear in question went directly
into the garbage because otherwise if yours truly was sorting the white clothes
I would have assumed he came face to face with a Yeti.
 |
| sort of like this one, which would make ANYONE crap their pants. |
Later, he also told me that the majority of the bathroom accident
from hell occurred because of two things:
a) the fact that he fucked around so long trying to get his flashlight
app to work that he almost lost control right then and there on the floor and b) because of
the low lighting from his cell phone screen he sat down on the bowl at the
wrong angle and needless to say, not all the “kids” got dropped off at the
pool.
He showered four or five times that night, just to make
sure.
A few days ago, he visited the same washroom, which now has a working light and Joe was not only able to seat himself
comfortably at the correct angle, but also have sufficient light with which to
cleanse himself afterward.
Lucky for him and his underwear drawer. (and me, and probably the Yeti too.)
