Monday, June 26, 2006

Potty Talk

In the midst of a very nice dinner at a swanky, local restaurant, celebrating E's mom's birthday,(Happy Birthday, Abue!) David leans in toward me from our seat at the table and whispers, "I have to poop."

Okay, no big deal. This happens a lot when we go out to eat. The actual entrees haven't arrived, so we've got plenty of time for that, or at least a few minutes. We make our way to the ladies' room and David settles himself comfortably in the loo and I wait while he does his thing. We make small talk. He asks why the toilet tissue is hanging down, all askew. I tell him that's just what happens when you tear the paper off. He looks all around at the stall walls and then down to the floor.

"This floor is dirty."
"No, hon, that's a slate tile floor. It's supposed to have all those colors in it. See the pattern?"
"Yeah, but this part is broken." He points to a worn area in one tile that does seem to be missing a chunk of slate. Apparently he's never looked at our kitchen floor.
"Well, that happens. Floors get worn out from people walking all over them."
He looks under the stall walls and notices the space between the floor and the bottom of the stall partition.
(Pointing emphatically) "Hey, somebody could just crawl under there if they wanted to!"
"Yeah, but don't worry, nobody is going to want to. People don't usually do that."
He looks around a bit more and notices a drain in the floor of the larger stall next to ours.
"What's that drain for?"
"Well, it's to let water drain down it in case the toilet leaked or a pipe burst case there was water all over the floor. I guess. It would keep the floor from flooding."
He thinks for a moment. "You mean like if someone spilled their glass of milk on the floor."
"Well, no, we wouldn't bring a glass of milk in here."
"Yeah, we'd just pour it in the toilet," He says, nodding to himself.
"What?" This is nice pre-dinner talk. I'm wondering if my steak is waiting for me at the table.
David looks like he's thinking hard, or maybe working on the business at hand. Then he smiles like he's just hit on something brilliant.

"I bet if we put a ham in the toilet, that would really clog it up."
"Yes. Yes, I bet it would."

We'll try that next time we're at McDonald's, but not a nice joint like this.

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