A cute little sandwich shoppe in downtown Chickasha avoided a bathroom disaster last week by having the good sense to provide a plunger in it's ladies room.
Whatever we've been feeding our girls, seems to not only be nourishing their little bodies and propelling them to new heights in both school and post-academic activities but it's also producing end product of menacing proportions.
All I have to say about it is, "ouch."
Apparently I'm not alone in this area, as fellow Dad-Blogger Dennis' imps have provided him with similar adventures in pottydom.
When I was summoned by the panicked stricken voice of my 7.5 year old to enter with haste into the normally forbidden realm of the restaurants femme facilities, a quick scan of the focal point of my daughters stressed state revealed a nearing of the rim floodwater state.
Jumping into action, I pulled up the tank lid and lifted the plunger arm, thus sealing off the water supply that was causing the toilet bowl to reach max cap.
Made it with about an inch of bowl lip to spare.
Spotting an industrial strength black rubber headed plunger of plenty tucked covertly behind the rubbermaid trash can in the corner, I motioned for my now near gagging offspring to hand me the wooden handled tool of commodious salvation.
The hand-off was made, and the black rubber head of the baby plunger was dipped into the toilet bowls baptismal waters. Like a streaming video off the DIY website, the proper tool used properly (albeit one-handed) made short time of the clog of my own daughter's doing.
All the more reason why if I'm ever appointed to the State Legislature (I'd never run for it...too many skeletons in the old water closet) I'd propose a bill that would require all public restrooms with sit-down type commodes should make available a working plunger to it's temporary occupants.
Modern high fiber diets deem it more than necessary.