The Teacup Toilet
This logging took place at the beginning of my summer vacation last year. I was back home, large and in charge. Since it was still my first week back, I was in the habit of getting up early in the mornings and as a result, my mom would leave me some kind of breakfast. This particular morning, I woke to the aroma of eggs and bacon with a side of pancakes next to good ol’ Aunt Jemima and a fresh pot of coffee. I eagerly got out of bed with a grin on my face and made my way downstairs to the tile floored kitchen. This hearty breakfast tasted as good as it looked and I was in heaven for about four and a half minutes. Soon after, my youngest sister came downstairs. Apparently, she was in the shower while I was downstairs and she asked if I could drive her to school. I shrugged my shoulders and said “why not”? I drank what was left of my warm cup of coffee, mixed with rich, vanilla creamer to wash down the sweet, buttered pancakes and went to my old room to throw on some pants and shoes. I ended up taking a quick nap, just a lil’ catnap, and my sister woke me up saying that she only had 10 minutes to get to class. We ran out to my car and as I put the key in the ignition, something felt a little peculiar. The engine roared awake and I stepped on the gas petal, making our way down the street on this warm, sunny morning. With the windows down and a cool breeze running through our hair, we jammed to the musical stylings of Britney Spears’s “Toxic”. Not long after, we arrived at my sister’s elementary school, but I knew there was something in me that needed to come out and it needed to come out now. I tried to hold it in, but it was no use. “BUUUUURP”. Relief. My stomach settled and I waved at my sister as she went in through the double doors. I made my way out of the parking lot, but before coming to the stop sign, I realized that the coffee was not the only thing brewing that morning. I immediately pulled a U-ey and parked as quickly as possible before power-walking into my sister’s school. Casually, I walked up to the front office and asked where my sister’s Homeroom was. They pointed me in her direction and I pulled away as soon as I turned the corner. Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom. I was getting desperate and began to penguin-sprint, looking for any sign of a bathroom nearby. Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel shone bright and I waddled to my destiny. I walked in unbuttoning my pants, and kicked open a stall before coming to a dead-stop. “What is this?”, I thought to myself. “Oh god… They’re tiny. It’s going to be like pooping in teacups…” I chortled at the thought and again shrugged my shoulders and said “Why not”? I squatted lower than I ever had in my whole life, in perfect form too, thanks to my high school lifting class. I unleashed the beast and within minutes I had done something horrible. The miniature ceramic throne was almost filled to the top, and despite my best efforts, it would not flush. My creation stared at me, and I proudly stared back. A sense of accomplishment overfilled me and such pride ran through my heart. I created this. I nodded in appreciation and walked away, the most satisfied a man could leave the bathroom. My only remorse lied in the thought of the poor janitor who would have to deal with this. Truly a force to be reckoned with was the dump in the teacup toilet, but I am sure even the janitor would take his hat off in honor to this monster crap. I waved to the woman at the front office and walked out to double doors, knowing that that day would be a truly glorious day.