Tag Archives: Bathroom

A Long Weekend in the Woods

Sometimes you just need a long weekend away getting your camp on.  Or, if you’re my husband, you think you need to go camping every weekend.  He’s weird though, so we’re not taking his opinion into account.  Anyway, we camped over Memorial weekend, like we always do and it was a great little escape.

Eating delicious food (and way too much of it), going for long hikes, riding bikes around the campground and playing games together are all the things I love about camping.  Plus, you have a great excuse for not taking a shower.  Not that I like to go for long periods of time without a shower, but sometimes a shower just gets in the way of all the things going on in a day, so.  Yeah.

Of course there are downsides to camping.  For one, there’s the whole bathroom situation.  We have a small tent trailer, that has a bathroom in it, but when there are three of us staying in it, it’s a better idea to just use the campground bathrooms. You know, the ones with doors.  Doors that lock, by the way, Mr. Taking a Poop Without Locking the Door!  Yeah, there’s a story here.

On the last day I walked over to the bathroom and opened the door to a man sitting on the toilet.  Yep.  It scared the shit out of me.  Not literally, but I jumped about 10 feet in the air as he sat there acting as casual as can be.  He honestly waved this slow, casual wave and then said (also very slowly, I might add), “Yeah, doesn’t lock.” Which, by the way, is entirely untrue.  I had been locking the thing for three days! And also, if it really doesn’t lock, how about putting a sign on the door or something before sitting down to take a crap?  You ever think of that dude?!  No, because he obviously could care less, as noted by the casual wave.

Other than the drop in, the camping weekend was a success and fun was had by all. I can prove it with these pictures.

Advertisements

Worn Out

After some intense “wrestling,” the boys conked out on the bed.  For some reason Jack was full of it and went absolutely crazy after we gave him a bath.  He does not like getting a “tubber” as I like to call it.  A treat doesn’t even lure him into the bathroom.  And once we get him in the tub he stands there frozen the entire time, scared to death.  As soon as he’s able to taste freedom again he starts running up and down the hall like a complete lunatic until I insist that Rob do some serious playing with him.  So, naturally, he wore himself right out. What he clearly doesn’t understand is that if he would stop rolling his head in poop, we wouldn’t need to subject him to said baths.  Hellooooo.