Tag: blogging

M has another month of fab prompts that you can see here

Today it is Toilet paper troubles.

I saw the prompt and my mind instantly went back to an event a few years ago now that you might like.  You also might not but it’s a true story either way.

It was a lovely summers day and I remember being sat in the living room, as we English are prone to do when we have good weather, when my eldest could be heard laughing hysterically at the top of the stairs.  I’m talking out of control belly laugh.  He was about 7 at the time, and Tom my youngest about 4.

“What’s so funny Sam” I shout up the stairs and he can’t answer, simply pointing down the stairs and out into the garden.  I looked and was at first uncertain until I noticed Tom wandering around the garden with his trousers around his ankles trailing a good ten feet of soiled toilet paper behind him hanging from his bottom.

Obviously my first instinct was to grab my camera to get a good video and as Sam continued to howl hysterically I headed down the garden to capture the moment for posterity.

At this point my wife was alerted to something going on and I heard a cry of distress from the upstairs window an the thundering of feet down the stairs as sh and Sam hurried down the back steps and into the garden too.

“What the bloody hell is going on” she shouted *or something like that) “and why the hell are you filming it and not cleaning up.  Curiously that wasn’t a question that had crossed my mind.  Perhaps that just shows how different men and women are.

Before I know it a hasty investigation reveals that Sam had tossed Tom a loo roll when he said he needed to go (we only had one loo  in the house at the time which Sam was using) and told him to go in the garden.  Which Tom did.

“Get some carrier bags” she says to me “and put that bloody camera away.”

The look on her face suggested that she was not to be trifled with so I hurried into the house returning with bags to use to clean up the mess.  By this point Tom had pointed out where he had relieved himself and the wife took one of the bags to pick up his leavings. 

Probably should point out at this point that I have a quite terrible gag reflex and am prone to heaving and lurching at the sight of bodily fluids which would explain why I begin to gag, eyes watering, as she attempts to pick up the remains of Tom’s lunch. 

“Just help will you and pick up that toilet roll” she says pointing to the yards of soiled twin ply littering the garden.  I respond by gagging uncontrollably as I near it, which in turns sets off Sam who himself starts to gag.

“What is wrong with you people” she shouts as we both stand there gagging as she ties the bag full of Toms number two but this sight is simply too much for Sam who suddenly starts to projectile vomit across the garden.

“Oh god no “ she shouts panicked clutching a bag of the youngest’s poo as I crack up unable to do anything other that alternate between laughing and gagging, “Just help will you, god what are the neighbours going to think.”

At this point we were about to find out not what the neighbours thought but certainly what their dog thought as she trotted along and quite merrily began to eat Sam’s vomit.

It is all very much a blur from that point on but I know there was screaming and shouting and the dog looked most satisfied with whatever Sam had had for lunch and I eventually stopped gagging though it was too late to recover the position.

It wasn’t long after that we started planning to have the second bathroom put in.