This is a part 2 of a story which was originally published in my newspaper column in 2011. If you missed last week’s blog, I humbly suggest you take a moment to read part 1. We last left off with a mess in my trailer bathroom which defied all sorts of scientific laws. The mess was caused by a builder who wasn’t man enough to stay and clean it up!
“Chad! Chad!” I squealed into the phone. “One of the workers just used our bathroom and the whole toilet is full of poop and the toilet water is ready to spill over any second!”
Dear Reader, I think sympathy would have been a wonderful gift to be extended by my husband at this point, but all I received was laughter. Chad, in his clean-air little engineer world, sat at his desk and laughed and laughed at me. Once he could breathe again I asked, “What am I going to do?” He responded, “Clean it up!”
I hung up because I didn’t like that answer.
I called my friend down the road. This time I received some sympathy. She wanted to hear the whole story and appropriately agreed that it literally stunk to be me at that moment. Unfortunately, every moment that ticked by while I was talking on the phone meant the wretched smell was making me want to wretch even more.
The “Death March,” played as I donned my industrial strength rubber gloves and walked down the bowling alley hallway of the trailer to the bathroom. I grabbed the plunger and the millisecond the plunger touched the water in the toilet, I had myself a version of Niagara Falls complete with tons of “brown barrels” going over the side.
The mess was finally cleaned up, but I guarantee you, it was the gift which kept on giving. I can’t tell you how many times I steam-cleaned that bathroom carpet. I would have ripped it up; however, since I was only a temporary owner of the trailer, I did not have the authority. I bought stock in any company which made air-freshener products and we muddled through as best we could.
Needless to say, none of the builders ever asked to use my bathroom again. In fact, for the remainder of our house construction, the culprit never did look me in the eyes again. I knew his secret and boy howdy, he hung his head in shame every time I was around! For oh, so many reasons, I fondly think of him as ”the skunk!”
If you’ve made it this far, Dear Reader, I’m sure a few of you are shocked and appalled. But I will tell you, I’ve never told this story and not had people laughing to the point of tears. I’ve felt like crying a lot this year. 2011 has not been my favorite year. Oh, don’t worry, it could be much worse and I’ve nothing truly worthwhile to complain about like some readers. But like many of you, things that happen in this world unsettle me and when I feel unsettled, I find that laughter helps.
So I offer you, Dear Reader, my toilet trailer story. In this crazy old world there are so many things to take seriously, every so often, we’ve just got to throw back our heads and laugh!
The thought that I actually thought 2011 was a bit “rough” honestly makes me laugh, too. It’s why I’m thankful I do not know the future. If I’d known in 2011 what was coming in 2015 and beyond I would have been rendered helpless. Have you ever heard anyone say, “God doesn’t give you anymore than you can handle?” That’s a lie. God does sometimes give a person more than he or she can handle because if we can handle it, we don’t have to depend on Him and we just try to make it happen on our own. But here’s the good news . . . He gives it to you, but He is the one who handles it, and He helps you handle it every step of the way. I have it on good authority. Until the next Wednesday the Lord allows.
