Thursday, June 28, 2007

More stories from the loo

No, not the Louvre. The loo.

As our lacrosse game in St Catharines is an early one this week, I will visit the I.S. afterwards. Therefore car-pooling arrangements with teammate Porn King are altered. We meet not at his Burlington house but at a parking lot on Centennial Road, just off the highway at the Hamilton - Stoney Creek border.

At this large, relatively dead plaza there’s a Golden Griddle Restaurant – haven of extremely bland food. It’s a great place to go though, at six in the morning on the tail of a vicious bender where wine with dinner migrated seamlessly into double scotches at a noisy dance bar then quadruple scotches at an after-hours party and then stunned disbelief at the rising sun, a wildly spinning environment and the realization that you’ve devolved into a four-legged beast. A place where you can pound back eight cups of coffee and six breakfasts and begin the slow agonizing recovery into being human again.

Not that I would ever do anything like that.

Ever again.

It’s also a great place to duck into on a hot afternoon to make use of their bathroom and change out of your office clothes and into shorts and T-shirt. And that is my intention.

But the bathroom is small – with just one cubicle and it’s in use. So I wait. I hear voices inside it.

“I don’t think this poo will drop,” says a voice - a very young one.

“Sure it will,” says a parental one.

Groaning... grunting…

“There it goes! Weeeeeeeee! Sploosh!”

“Weeeeeee! Sploosh!” sings dad and thus begins the father-and-son turd-dropping song in two part harmony.

I'm forced to leave. It’s that or crumple to the floor in hysterics. I get changed in the truck.

I can conceive of the idea of having a child. It’s not entirely unimaginable. But taking part in the poo-dropping song?

Sorry. No can do. I can only assume that having children must do something weird and magical to your brain.



Kathleen said...

I have no children, but from all observations (and they are myriad as children are very popular in my family, only my sister has two, everybody else as three or four or five), when you have a child you become very involved in all things scatological.

Dr. Brainiac said...

Ohhhh honey, a turd in the toity is worth a joyous song any day. Should you ever go through the whole potty training process with a child, you'll understand that one will appreciatively engage in all manner of begging, bribery, and downright silliness if necessary if it means that one does not have to be responsible for changing a shitty diaper.

Excuse me, the rpmqz is burning.

Fantasy Writer Guy said...

Thank you both, for the excellent insight!

Anonymous said...

I don't do shit like that.

Hey, don't call me a liar Guy... You whiner about "disclaimers" and stuff!

Maybe one happy dance when they go without making a mess but that s all I own up to!

Dave said...

Man, I've had mornings when I feel like singing after finally...ahem "dropping some friends off at the pool".
More fibre, less cheese.
And never, ever have slzfzi.