Last week I was commuting to Syracuse every day for a teacher conference.
One of my best teacher friends has an aunt that lives in Syracuse, so she invited me to stay the night there so I could avoid the awful (and miserably early) commute.
I immediately jumped on it.
But was only able to stay for one night because of prior commitments in the evenings.
P.S. her aunt's family are some of the most awesome people on the planet.
After chatting with this awesome family for a couple of hours, I asked to use the restroom.
important side note: this was the same night that I got the call about the Orem position.
When I'm excited, nervous, anxious--anything, I tend to play with my hair.
Which results in a large ratted mess.
As soon as I went into the bathroom and saw my awful hair, the first thing I did was stand in front of the mirror to fix it.
After being in there for about 90 seconds (fixing my hair), I lifted up the toilet seat (you know, to take care of the REAL reason I was in there).
And the toilet was completely clogged.
With poo of course.
(they've got little boys at home ;))
And as I stared at the mess, the realization hit me--I've been in here for at least two minutes.
NO ONE is going to believe that I "hadn't gone to the bathroom yet," and "I wasn't the one to clog the toilet."
Isn't that what everyone says?
So I opened the door and ran out saying, "I swear, I haven't even gone to the bathroom yet! I was fixing my hair! But the toilet is clogged! And it wasn't me!"
I wish I could have taken a picture of everyone's faces...pure confusion.
The uncle, who I had yet to meet, had just walked in the door right as I came out saying that.
It was awesome.
But that toilet was seriously clogged.
It was going to need some serious tender loving care--and a lot of plunging.
And I didn't want to be blamed.
I even told them to stand outside the door while I used the other bathroom so they could hear me pee.
(you know, to prove I wasn't lying).
But surprisingly, no one took me up on that offer...
Yeah, I'm pretty sure they all think I clogged that toilet.
And then did the 10 year old move--and blamed it on someone else.
It really was unfortunate.
And that, my friends, is my embarrassing moment for the week.
I shall be forever known to that sweet family as "the girl who clogs the toilet, blames it on someone else, makes us plunge it, and then asks us if we want to listen to her pee."
That's okay...at least I got to avoid the commute for a day.