Oh I know I should have been better prepared. I should have planned in advance. I should have, but I didn’t. Then I took Nurse Meme day off and flounced around all day and got nothing done. Well nothing except went to Wal*Mart. That brings me to another side track. I believe we need more rules in this country. One of which is if you are going to make me pick dog poop up off of your dirt then you should be made to pick your child’s poop up off the Wal*Mart bathroom floor. I think that is a good rule.
I know about now you are looking at your computer and screaming out “WHAT? GLADYS DID WHAT? WHERE?” Well let me first share this little story and then I’ll get back to my other little story. I went to the Squal, um I mean Wal*Mart yesterday to pick up some of those cool little tooth picks that have the stringy thing on them that lets you floss your teeth without having to unhinge your jaw to get to your back teeth. It kind of surprises me that they have them at our Wal*Mart seeing as most of the people in our Walmart don’t have back teeth, come to think of it they don’t have front ones either. I have been suffering from a little bout of e-coli that was produced from eating tainted Jenny-O turkey burgers. This puts me in a precarious situation since the effects of it will hit me in the most obnoxious way at the most inopportune times. I was standing in the aisle when all of a sudden old Mr. E-Coli decides to do a number on me and I rush for the bathroom. Well in true Wal*Mart style the one closest to me had a big yellow cart parked in front of it with the words “OUT OF ORDER”. I pointed at that cart and shouted “Out of order! YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER”. Then I promptly turned around and high tailed it, so to speak, to the back of the store where I hoped and prayed the other restroom would not be having a judgmental moment.
I found the door to be free of blockage and ran for a stall. I settled on the first open door and began my germ blockage regimen. When I bent to place the ass gasket on the stool I noticed something on the floor not quite in my stall. I looked a bit closer and realized it was 3 small child sized turds on the floor. YES, I said TURDS as in more than one on the FLOOR. I ran for another stall and finally found one open and was able to find one that was turdless.
I was washing my hands when I spied a Wal*Mart employee drying her hands and so I said “Excuse me, but someone has relieved themselves on the floor in stall number 2. Shouldn’t someone come clean that up?” Becky, I know her name was Becky because it said so on her Wal*Mart name tag, replied “That doesn’t surprise me.” Then she went back to checking her passion pink lipstick and fluffing up her 1980’s over-permed mullet. I stood in disbelief and asked “aren’t you going to do something or tell someone?” Do you know what Becky the Wal*Mart employee said? She said “Nope.”
Well I trotted my little self right on up to the customer service desk and I demanded that they de-turd the restroom for the health and safety of the other Wal*Mart patrons. Then I told them exactly what I told you. I told them there should be a sign just like the sign in the park. You know the one that shows the person picking up dog poop, only with them picking up kid poop. You know what Youlanda, the Wal*Mart customer service lady and I know that was her name and what she did because it was on her name tag, said to me? She said “WHO DOES THAT?” My thoughts exactly. Now where was I?
Oh Yeah, me being schizophrenic or Catherine Zeta Jones or whatever. I have been working feverishly all day today. Why you ask? Well because it is the day before the Royal Wedding and I am just not prepared. I spent my morning getting the house all dusted and shined. I waxed the tables and cleaned the glass. I have been on the phone for hours looking for canopies. I called all around and they all said the same thing that I should get an Easy-UP. I keep telling people that I want little individual cakes and crackers with crab dip on them but for some reason they tell me it won’t be shady enough.
I ironed my outfit and gathered my pearls. I found my hankies and polished my tiara.
I was in a panic until I realized that no one in the house of McGuillicutty cared about the whole Royal fiasco but me. I just hope no one leaves turds in the restroom floor of Westminster Abby.