Don't EVER Say That You Have Nothing To Blog About

I must first start with a warning. This post is gross. And if bodily functions offend you, please, for both of us, move to the top right and click the big red X. I have questioned my sensibility many times over that I am even sharing this to begin with. That being said, I have never claimed to be sensible. I will probably deeply regret this post tomorrow at church when I am staring at some of your sweet faces, but it IS kinda funny, so...here we go:

Today, we had the biggest meeting of the year for our homeschool cover. It is a HUGE cover, so this meeting is a really big deal for us. If any of you have been reading here for any length of time, you probably already know that my friend, DonDee (yes, I am calling YOUR name!) and I are the leaders for our geographical area. That means nada, except to say that we were there today kind of early in order to get things ready. We were walking around the building to orientate ourselves when we happened upon the auditorium. It was dark (we were really early), but the leaders of our school, the people who frequently share a meal with our Senator and other such important people, were the only two in there doing the preliminary preparations.

It was at that time that I had the "need" to use the facilities. It is extremely important for me to convey to you that we are talking about a girl who has such an aversion to public restrooms, that my body has actually become so inhibited while camping that I didn't go # 2 for the entire week. So the fact that I was even feeling any kind of urge whatsoever was perplexing me a bit. At that point, DonDee looked at me and asked what we should do next. I matter-of-factly stated that this would probably be a fine time to find an Out-Of-The-Way bathroom. She made some remark about jr. high because I didn't put it that delicately, and we began our search.

We ended up finding said Out-Of-The-Way bathroom relatively quickly. DonDee mumbled something about lighting a match as I was closing the door behind me. When I looked on the back of the toilet, I noticed something that I was SURE was a candle which completely cracked me up because of DonDee's match comment. I quickly forgot about the candle before I could really ponder it thoroughly though, because as I sat down, I experienced what is one of the most dreaded and nasty of all public restroom (or any restroom for that matter) experiences. The seat was wet. And it was too late. I was already fully parked.

I was at a crossroads in my existence at that point, people. I could either scream and wail the way I really wanted to, or redirect my thoughts to something else. You will be happy to know that I chose the latter. The thought that I decided to utilize was that of saying a word that rhymes with "coop" to DonDee and watching the shock spread across her face for a mere moment. There really is a gene that has been passed on for many a generation on the paternal side of my family to CRAVE being able to shock someone into a certain expression. It is so priceless to me and I live for it. It's a sickness, really, I know.

So anyway, as I am sitting there re-living "the expression" I am falling into peals of laughter while I am on the throne. I finally forced myself to gain composure and finish what I had gone in there for in the first place, but don't you know, that while I was focusing on the "candle" upon arrival, I failed to check for toilet paper. Yeah. Thankfully, I have 4 children who frequently need tissues in church, so I had it all taken care of. At this point, I was ready to part ways with my little Out-Of-The-Way bathroom, because I had had enough of its antics. But it wasn't done with me. No, not by a long shot.

As I put my foot (because who really touches those) on the flusher and pushed down, nothing happened. So I pushed harder. Nothing. I began to maniacally wiggle the flusher in all different directions still using my foot while balancing on one leg, when I caught another glimpse of the candle on the back of the toilet. "What kind of candle doesn't have a wick?" I thought to myself. Then it all came crashing into my mind like a flood. The wrench. The WD-40 and other tools on the sink as I whizzed by upon entering. THAT, my friends, was no candle, it was the water supply seal. Let me break it down for you. No attached water supply seal = No water to the toilet = No flushing of it's contents.

I am no plumber, people. I quickly weighed the thought, at that moment, of giving it my best shot, but all I could picture was massive amounts of water spraying everywhere if I touched something, so I did what any self-respecting, adolescent-minded, 33 year old woman would do. I bolted.

My well-formulated plan was to open that door, meet up with DonDee, and quickly mosey far, far away from my sin. As soon as I cracked that door, I saw my non-suspecting friend and I was almost home-free when out of the corner of my eye I saw Her. I tried not to panic. Afterall, she may just be passing by, right? So I closed the door to the wicked Out-Of-The-Way bathroom right as She Who Frequently Dines With Senators, greeted me by name AND WALKED RIGHT INTO THAT BATHROOM.

I lunged at DonDee, grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to the nearest stairwell desperately whisper-spitting "IT'S BAD. IT'S REEEEEAL BAD!!!" She rolled her eyes to the back of her skull thinking I was just trying to drag her back to my jr. high world again and just stared at me. I just kept begging her to RUN. I could only manage 2 words at a time, so I kept repeating "Flusher Broken! Hurry UP!" Eventually she put it all together and hoofed it up the stairs with me to a far off classroom where I contemplated how long it would take me to slit my wrists with a spork while she whipped open her cell phone to call anyone who would answer their phone.

After a solid hour of coaxing me to come out of the fetal position, DonDee finally convinced me to face my fears and walk back through that hall (the only way) to get to the auditorium because our meeting would be starting. I finally got up, went back down the stairs only to be greeted by a VERY angry looking janitor spraying Lysol all through the hallway after she had very noticeably cleaned the bathroom (I know this because the doors were propped open and everything looked disinfected). I quickly walked past her avoiding her glance and made my way to the auditorium.

Before long, the meeting was started and She Who Frequently Dines With Senators began to speak. She thanked us for coming, mentioned a few other important things, and then wasted no time requesting that we show respect for the facilities. She went on to give us examples. Her first example was that if we found a piece of paper lying around, pick it up and throw it away, but it was with great exuberance that she made her next point "If you make a mess in the bathroom, PLEASE be sure to clean up after yourselves!". Then we went into prayer. No kidding. I closed my eyes wishing for sudden death when all at once, I thought there was an earthquake because the entire pew was convulsing. But wait. It wasn't an earthquake at all. It was DonDee turning 65 shades of purple with tears streaming out of her eyes in an attempt to suppress her laughter.

And do you know what she said to me when it was all said and done? "I (ha-ha) just (ha-ha) couldn't (ha-ha) help (ha-ha) it.....(SNORT).....YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE EXPRESSION ON YOUR FACE....(BWAAAAHAHAAAHHHAA!!!). Oh. Well now I completely understand.

Going to die now,