There was a dime in the boys bathroom toilet. It caused me to have an immediate memory flashback to second grade, when a quarter that belonged to me was in the toilet. I don’t remember if I dropped it there or if someone else did, but I was terrified of losing it. To make matters worse, someone had peed in the toilet. I remember my friend Stephen Savas being there. He said I could flush the toilet and the quarter would stay there, but I didn’t believe him. Then he did something I would never forget: he reached into the dirty water and pulled out the quarter. What a friend!
Yeah, I’d say it was worth ten cents to just leave that dime alone. *jibblie*
When I was about four or five I had a big red spoon that was my favorite toy. (Don’t judge me.) It fell into the toilet – the unused toilet – and I went into hysterics. I told my mom and she said to just reach in and get it and she’d wash it. That was an Alice-In-Wonderland experience – the moment I realized you could reach in and get something out of that bowl. Up until then it was ‘deposit only’.
And then there are the mothers, of my generation, who daily, maybe even hourly, reached in and rinsed those poopy cloth diapers of our dear little ones!
Yeah, I’m pretty sure mothers of your generation deserve medals, given at a ceremony with a big band and plenty of flowers.
…and then there are the pair of scissors from your classroom brought to from a toilet in the men’s washroom you by a dear friend who blogs about these sort of things. Not enough bleach on the planet, I am afraid…