Race for the Toilet

I began my blog in November 2014. I advertised it as mostly funny stories to put a smile on your face. And we have done a lot of laughing and snorting. After posts about depression and a brush with death, I made a deliberate effort to deliver some humour this week. When you read this loony story, you may conclude that I have deep-seated psychological issues. Of course, we approach humour as individuals. I might be rolling on the floor laughing at a knock-knock joke while you are thinking, “What’s wrong with her? I don’t see anything funny about that.”Rolling on Floor Laughing-2.jpgThis week’s humour depends on how you feel about elimination — if you catch my drift. Bodily functions — we all have them, or we could not exist. However, the more genteel and well-heeled among us do not discuss them, especially in public. Well, I am neither well-heeled nor genteel, so I love to talk and giggle about such matters. If you don’t want to read about poop, you should stop reading NOW.Halloween Warning Sign. Beware Of Vampires. Vector Illustration,This adventure began on a sunny Saturday in June. The weather could not have been more beautiful. Glenn and I were looking for something to amuse ourselves, but what? We tossed around a few ideas and decided to go antiquing — one of our favourite activities. I did a bit of research and found a few shops in the Annapolis Valley that looked interesting, so off we went.

About half way there, we stopped at a diner called THE TURKEY BURGER for a little break and a bite to eat. This little restaurant, not far from Bridgewater, holds a special spot in my heart. Even though it has undergone several renovations over the years and doesn’t look at all like the original one, it still evokes warm fuzzy feelings. Back in the sixties, Mom, Dad, Francis and I used to stop there on our way to the Annapolis Valley. As kids, the giant milkshakes impressed us the most.Milkshake.jpgThey filled our tall glasses to the brim and brought the remainder to the table in the ice-cold, metal milkshake cup. At other establishments, the staff drank or dumped out what would not fit in the glass. And what did I order fifty years later?  A coffee milkshake. Just like the olden days.  We left the Turkey Burger and climbed steadily to South Mountain and then descended to the beautiful community of Wilmot.Beans AntiquesI was browsing through the dishes when I heard a gurgling sound and felt my abdomen rumble — similar to a volcano coming to life after a millennium of inactivity. Why? BECAUSE I am lactose-intolerant. I foolishly traded ten minutes of pleasure for ten hours of agony — gas, cramps, bloating — BUT WORST OF ALL diarrhea.That meant only one thing. I needed to find a washroom — FAST

I approached the lady running the store and asked where I could find the nearest public washroom. All the while, I was praying that in the true spirit of Nova Scotia hospitality she would say, “Just follow me, dearie. There is one at the back of the store.” I would have settled for an outhouse out back. Nope, that’s not what she said. She told me there was a Tim Hortons just down the road, but I didn’t know which was up and which way was down. I had to ask, “Which way do we turn out of the parking lot? Left or right?” Left it was. I’m sure you can feel my pain because you have had at least one similar experience. I don’t want to go into detail, but I’m sure you understand what I mean when I say I was doing some serious pinching — HARD. I was wishing I had practice my Kegel exercises more diligently during my pregnancies. Too late now. I was running VERY short on time.

Hallelujah!  The Big Scoop Restaurant came into view.  It was closer than Tim Hortons. As Glenn slowed down, I bailed and tore off for the restaurant. I was afraid I would be met with one of those mean signs, you know the ones.Washroom Customers.pngThere was no such sign. Bonus. I walked into the restaurant where three waitresses asked how many seats we needed.

I wasn’t thinking about chairs in a restaurant; I was in toilet commode, I mean mode, and the situation was deteriorating quickly. (I wanted to say, “A one-holer, please,” but I didn’t.)

“Could I please use your washroom first?” I asked sweetly while trying to hide my desperation.

In the tone of hospitality for which Nova Scotia is renowned, one of them said, “Of course, dear. It’s just around the first corner.”

Relief, sweet relief, blissful relief, pure relief. (At times it was melodious and malodorous relief too.) “Please, God,” I begged, “Just one more thing. Let there be toilet paper on the roll.” And there was.Toilet Paper-1 Then the moment of decision came.

  • What was going to happen when I flushed?
  • What if I plugged their toilet?
  • What if it flooded over onto the floor?
  • Where was the plunger?

I held my breath and braced for the worst as I gingerly pushed down on the handle.

I envisioned a scene from DUMB AND DUMBER.

I was repeating the kids’ rhyme, “Around and around and around she goes, where she lands nobody knows.” Well, I was hoping for down the pipe and not all over the floor. Everything went down. I could breathe once again.

Now I had to leave the washroom and exit through the restaurant where the waitress was waiting to seat me. I opened the door gently and peeked around the corner —not a waitress nor customer was in sight.   I skipped across the dining room and out the door feeling like a brand new woman. Euphoria replaced my previous worries.


Glenn and I returned to antiquing for the rest of the afternoon. Our next stop was at  Robert MacNeil’s Antiques Eastern Canada’s Largest … I found a serving bowl and salt and pepper shakers matching Mom’s set of Enoch Wedgwood Tunstall English Harvest which she collected at IGA. (Apparently, Enoch wasn’t one of “the Wedgewoods.”)English Harvest Tea Set.jpgWe left Wilmot and ascended North Mountain to visit Mosher’s Corner Antiques. Everything on display in the big barn reminded Glenn of time spent at Uncle Jim’s and Uncle Everett’s. He loved the floorboards best of all.  Outside, we could look across the Bay of Fundy and see New Brunswick. Absolutely breathtaking.Moshers Corner-1.jpgBy late afternoon, it was time to make the long drive home. I can assure you that any antiquing finds that day paled in comparison with the race to find a toilet — inside, outside, one-hole or two.

I have heard a variety of “caught short” stories over the years, mostly from relatives, but I’ll never tell.  I don’t want to steal their thunder (jug). Groan.


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About meldaclark

It is hard to believe that I have been blogging since late 2014. I will continue as long as I have one more story to tell. I have had the privilege to feature 20 of my favourite short stories in a book called "Life Matters." It is available for just $25 including shipping. Now that's a good deal. Readers' Digest shared one of my funniest stories "Sleeping With Roaches" in their publication called "More of Our Canada." was super exciting for me. The Nova Scotia Teachers' College Alumni Association has posted two stories on their website. Something unexpected has developed as a result of this. I have been invited to share my funny stories at the library, with community groups and retirement homes. I have a great voice for storytelling. You will feel as if you are in the story. I spend a large portion, okay, all day, sitting cross-legged in my Lazyboy chair typing away. I need to add a walk or two to my day. I love my life as a wife, mother, nanny, sister, aunt and friend. From 2004 to 2014, my husband and I operated Monk Funeral Services in beautiful Bobcaygeon, Ontario. During that time, I began to write human interest stories for a local publication called the "Kawartha Promoter." I discovered I enjoyed writing stories and, better still, people enjoyed reading them. When my husband and I are not at home in Bobcaygeon, we can be found at my family homestead in Lockeport, Nova Scotia.​

8 Responses

  1. Gail Roache

    Been there, done that Melda. Like you, milk shakes are the worst culprits….side by side with chicken 🙂 Have made of few woods road stops over the years and ALWAYS have a roll of toilet paper in the trunk 🙂 Gail

    On Fri, Jul 15, 2016 at 2:28 AM, Every Day Matters wrote:

    > meldaclark posted: “I began my blog in November 2014. I advertised it as > mostly funny stories to put a smile on your face. And we have done a lot of > laughing and snorting. After posts about depression and a brush with death, > I made a deliberate effort to deliver some humour ” >


  2. Denise Faulds

    I got caught up short very suddenly and for no apparent reason when snowmobiling. Ok, here’s gross for you. I, of course, was in my snowmobile suit which, of course, I was going to need for the ride home. I didn’t think I’d make it. What happens if the eruption happens in my snowmobile suit in the middle of nowhere. There were no bathrooms for ??? how far? Then all of a sudden we came upon an outhouse in a park in the middle of nowhere. Placed there just for me I’m sure. They even had toilet paper. Oh, the relief. Just in the nick of time. Off we went and it hit me again. Oh no, not in the snowmobile suit. We came into town and I’m just dying. There in front of us was a Timmies. Saved again, My lucky day and a clean snowmobile suit.


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