I went on a school trip with Grandys to visit an historical place and learn how our Great Grandparents lived. Living in their grass huts then upgrading to mud and finally onto wooden houses over years of time. School learning with the cane lurking to homemade toys with no batteries. It was a really good day and fascinating on all levels. Half way through experiencing all this olden day life, I needed to visit the toilet. I was absolutely delighted to find that there were no bed pans or a long drop experience required to participate in and that there were modern facilities tucked away in an old building.
My personal job done, I proceeded to the final hand wiping duty when I was aware of 2 ladies talking outside. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but when I thought I heard our school being mentioned I made an extra effort to listen. One would call it eaves dropping. There was an issue and the school was not being held in a good light. I immediately went into defence mode and asked what the problem was as in my opinion, our school is one of the most polite and well-managed schools around. We always get compliments from school outings about how well-behaved they are. This lady was the cleaner doing her rounds and had just happened to come at the same time I had come to do my business. According to her, one of the small males had made a dash on his own into the toilet and left a mess. Still defensive I explained it couldn’t be us as our children are always accompanied by an adult but she was determined that it was our little bundle of cuteness that had left his bundle of uncool cuteness all over the place. Here was where I was about to make mistake No. 1.
“Can I see this mess please?” I asked as I thought maybe I needed proof of this accusation, since no one had actually seen him do anything but rush in. She allowed me to poke my innocent head around the corner and have a quick peak.
Oh my goodness! Oh somebody save me! Oh heck! Oh my freaking mumma! I want my mumma. Oh Lordy Lord! HOW could one so small and precious make that amount of doo doo? The smell was so horrific it burnt my nostril hairs clean out from inside my nose. Spasms were forming deep within my gut. Heaving motions were rhythmically trying to escape from my inner most being. I backed up quickly and stepped away from the image now firmly printed in my mind no doubt to periodically torment me forever. It was disgusting on a whole new level. How could I save our school reputation now? How could they believe us to be anything but a big pile of dirty doo doo.
Whilst I was still sifting and sorting raw images in my head, the ladies declared that they wanted to speak to someone in charge as they felt this needed to be reported. They went in one direction while I went off in the other. I found our person in charge and enlightened them on the delicate situation. The cleaner advised she would come and point out the child at lunchtime and in the mean time the school routine could carry on while she, the cleaning lady, did her job. What could I do but offer to help. Surely this had to be brownie points for the school? Ooops maybe “brownie” was not a good choice of a word to use.
Off she went to get her supplies to which I hope included a few pegs for our noses. Soon the 3 of us stood back outside the door that separated us from a half hour in time that could change us forever if things did not go according to health and safety plans. Realising our name was now shot, hung and dried out for everyone to soon see in her eyes, I made mistake No 2.
“Before you start could I please take a picture?” Why the heck would I like a picture is beyond me but I thought I could use it for some form of defence somewhere maybe down the track. I leaned in and just quickly clicked away then retreated back into the fresh air.
Being just the offered help I waited for the cleaner to initiate some effort but with much muttering and body pacing, she could not bring herself to enter the cubicle. This was obviously a whole new soil level that she had not experienced before. Mistake no 3.
“Give me your gloves. Ill do it.” said a weird voice that slipped right out from my mouth before I could control and stop it. The thoughts in my head were yelling “are you kidding?” but she had ripped those gloves off so fast and put them in my hand before I could contemplate retracting my stupid offer. With purple gloves firmly pulled on and a bag shoved in my hand, I entered into the pit of no return. I knew I would not come out the same. I took a huge big breath and held on while I turned the corner to look at what I had offered to somehow scoop up.
It was worse than I thought. It was on the net curtain. Like a lot of it was on the net curtain. Like the mother of all nuclear bombs had gone off and it had plastered all over the net curtains. I was stunned in my tracks. Mistake no 4.
I gasped knowing I could not inhale anything of any nature so immediately mistake No 5 stepped in. Pride cometh before a fall. I had too much pride in my school and too much pride in myself to say “you can stick this job, so I gave myself a 1 second Nike pep talk and said “Just do it.”
In my 30 second breath hold, I unhooked the curtains and dropped them right onto the code brown. I told myself, if I couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there. I made sure the bag was pre opened and then I lent over and scooped it all together and threw it sideways into the bag knowing if I felt anything in this one scoop wonder then it would be all over rover. Mistake No 5.
I had to look to see if I had picked it up and my 30 seconds of holding my breath was up. I needed air so I had no choice but to inhale. Success, but the relief was short-lived as I realised there was no way I was going to stop the dry retching that was imminent. I proceeded to get up and quickly leave the cubicle but the noises beat me and they were escaping from my mouth. It is very rare that I vomit but when I do attempt the stomach return motion, I am indeed a very loud raaalph imitator to which I was loudly accommodating today. A continuous stomach workout was happening as I stumbled outside into the open air. I turned to the ladies and said..
“It is done and the plastered artwork is now your problem.”
“I guess I will have to wash the curtain?” the cleaner said to which I replied while gasping my new fresh air. “There is no curtain anymore. Trust me. It cannot be washed” I quickly walked away before my stupid mouth offered any more help even though I could hear “You are a legend.” coming from one of them. This was not the fame I was after.
I reconnected with my Grandy and her activity whilst silently mulling over what just happened when suddenly my analytical natural mind kicked in with new-found understanding that it wasn’t us. Sadly it meant I had to have another look at the picture on my phone but I knew I was onto something good. Good for our school.
“Must delete this evidence once I prove my point” I told myself when I realised I had indeed made a satisfying discovery if ever there was going to be any satisfaction in code brown land.
I went back and found the unhappy cleaner who was still declaring our school was at fault when I pointed out to her the facts that were steering at us in black and white. Well maybe we could say brown and browner. I showed her the picture and declared my opinion to which she agreed. It could not have been a school child thus leaving our schools reputation intact.
What did I discover on an alphabetical level. A: Way too much poo for a tiny cute human. B: Way too high up the curtain. No acrobatic activity could ever produce it that high. It physically wasn’t possible C: If it wasnt a child then it had to be an adult. E: Oh nooo. Stuff the alphabet. It was an adult and I just helped to clean up an adults poop. Oh please Heavenly Father. Please tell me there is a medal out there for me some where for me. Mummas gunna have nightmares for a loong time……..