Um, I missed this chapter in Parenting 101
Oh Lordy, you can’t make this shit up!! I swear to you.It was a ‘no shit, there I was’ kind of moment.
I admit to being a complete and utter germaphobe when it comes to public bathrooms. Among the worst rank bars, airports, gas stations and stadium bathrooms.
Last night was our first ‘real’ home game and it just so happened we were playing our old rivals the Chargers. They have had a terrible run (13 losses in a row) and last nights astounding win by our Wildcats 46-14 was worth what we went through to see it occur. In the first three minutes of the game we scored 14 points in 7 plays unopposed. And then it happened. Huge bolts of air to ground lightning and the TSSAA rules had both teams scurrying for the locker rooms. A lot of fans headed under the bleachers and a friendly neighbor lent my husband and I a small umbrella to use. Contrary to my weather channel app on my BB – durn thing lied, it was supposed to pass quickly and looked relatively small. We got poured on for an hour and fifteen minutes. There was no helping it. If you stuck it out, you got soaked. My right side as well as (thanks to the runoff) my rear end were soaked. I thought I’d be smart and wear these comfy cotton pants and rolled the cuffs up to wear with the red Wildcat shirts. Pain is temporary – Pride is forever!! Wildcat Pride
After things finally started to clear up, and the required time had passed both teams came back out to start playing. Nope, they don’t call the game for anything – other than lightning breaks lol. Our boys are born mudders though. They remained unchallenged until the coach sent in the JV. He believe in giving them the experience verses ramming an obvious slaughter down the other team’s throats. That’s just how we roll here.
Finally fed up with just not ‘feeling it’ I slogged my way to the bathrooms with Alex in tow. Now come on ladies, let me hear ya! What is the first thing we do? Yep, cover the toilet with the toilet paper barrier or put down the seat covers provided (if you’re lucky). So Alex goes first and has a smidge of trouble with the tp sticking since she was kinda wet. We use the handicapped stall since she still doesn’t feel comfortable going herself in extremely public places..I helped her get situated and it wasn’t but a small blip of trouble.
So my turn, again the tp ring and I peel off my layer to sit not even thinking. So the tp promptly adheres to my rear end and thighs, because my skin is wet and when I stand up, they stay attached. Now stop laughing damn it……..wipe your eyes so you can read the rest, it gets worse………or better depending on which side of this story you are on. I valiantly try to peel the damn treacherous 1/2 ply cheap toilet paper they always seem to have, off of my skin but it was glued on. You know, the kind where you have to worry whether or not your finger might accidentally slip through…well this is another side effect of the tissue paper thin toilet paper they provide.
So this tissue paper thin stuff is hard as hell to peel off and when my daughter leans over and starts pragmatically peeling off pieces then further humiliates me by saying matter of factly, you missed some more mom. O…M…G!! I frantically start rubbing at it, trying to get it off and keep trying to refrain from ‘making it a big deal’ by succumbing to the temptation to swat her hand away. After all, she was just trying to help. Lord, if you could please make THIS one of the childhood memories she forgets, I would really appreciate it.
Just when I couldn’t feel more embare-rassed I turn my rear to her and say, did I get it all. I wanted to die on the spot from either shame or hysterical laughter, I couldn’t decide. Though now I can hardly quit laughing long enough to type this out. She leans over to pull another strip off the other side. ARG, please let this be over with quickly!!! Finally when I could feel no more obvious tp remnants I yanked up my pants and said lets go, knowing the first thing I would do when I got home was check it out, dry off and put on something warm to help me get over the trauma………. LOL
Needless to say I spent the next 15 minutes under the hand dryer, drying myself out a bit. She tried to do the same and her petite size kept her from getting close enough to dry much but her hair and shoulders. Though she kept an exaggerated hop up attempting it anyways.
I see my moment and totally exact my revenge. I calmly point to the other end of the bathroom where the hand dryer is about 4 inches from the sink edge and say “Why don’t you sit on the edge and dry yourself with that one”. She took one look at me over her shoulder through narrowed eyes and her expression clearly said “fuck you very much mom” and I laughed some more as she dried herself off. I even sucked it up enough to amuse her with an exaggerated booty shake under the dryer. While the bathroom was totally empty of course………..I’m not that stupid. LOL ;-P
So I don’t know whether to chalk this up as a fond memory or hope like hell if I’m old and not capable of taking care of myself, my daughter won’t be wiping my bum and thinking back to that day when she was 8 and had to help her mom peel toilet paper off her ass? Great, and my ‘walking recorder’ just HAD to be the one witness……oh wait I guess now all of you know now too. :p