First, I couldn’t resist the “#2”. teeheehee! Just too easy.
I really mean… Things you only hear in a public restroom when Stinkerbell and I are there!!! Part Two
For #1, please read http://augalinfp.blogspot.com/2006/08/things-you-only-hear-in-public.html
Our first installment with Funny Potty Stories on Stinkerbell (then known as DD) began in a clothing store. Today’s chapter will come to you from a restaurant.
Stinkerbell loves eating at the Cracker Barrel. Fried chicken tenders, okra and corn (put the corn in a bowl, please) are her regular order. When she was really small, she called it “tick-tar”, her way of pronouncing guitar. Now WHAT it was about the Cracker Barrel store or its sign that made her think of a guitar, I’ve never really understood. I think it was because of the design on their sign looked a little bit like the big part of a guitar. If you squint really hard. And press on your eyes until your vision blurs. Or you take off your glasses.
Stinkerbell and I were in the ladies room at our local Cracker Barrel. It was a crowded, busy day. All the stalls were full, and several women were outside the stalls washing hands, waiting their turn or changing a diaper. Our turn came and we, once again, used the wheelchair accessible stall. There was no one waiting to pee that required the use of the wheelchair stall, so Stinkerbell and I enjoyed the extra space.
I let her tinkle first. Then while I’m assuming the position, she’s doing the “pull up your pants dance”… well, just remember this. Her voice has never been a quiet one. Whisper? Not MY Stinkerbell.
“Mommy, I have a hair on my bottom.”
thinking it’s one of the long ones from her head that has fallen down into her panties or pants and is tickling or irritating her… “Get it out of there. Put it on the floor.”
“No, mommy.” frustration drips out of her mouth onto the floor and runs down the sewer drain… “Like you do. See????” big proud grin
You know how they all reacted. You’re doing it now. Go ahead and laugh. It’s funny.
I gambled that they had all been equally embarrassed by their own twerps at some point in their lives. And if they hadn’t yet, it was coming. It’s a rite of passage. You embarrassed your parents in all sorts of ways. Your off-spring will embarrass you. It’s only fair.