Wow! Thats almost as fucked up as the woman who threw a turd out the window rather than have her boyfriend find out that she took a shit. Where do people like this come from...........

WOW YOU aint kiddin there C Everett! Thank God Francine that you have had this lightbulb moment in your life to realize that you cannot raise your children like veal. In a box with no sunlight and little movement so as they will not hurt themselves. My hope for you is that you teach your children that when that dookie is a knockin your rearend should be a rockin no matter WHAT time of day it is.
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The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!

That was my sisters shit you took credit for, man was my mom mad when she came to see the evidence and saw you claiming dibbs on it, my sister hasn't been the same since!

Damn it Bunga, you cracked me up with that one.

WOW.... Youre mom is real fussy about bowel habits. I hope since this incident occured, youre mother relies on the the saying "let nature take its course".

That teenage girl saved you from a whole lot of nagging. Great first story Francine.
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I am winter's hurricane, I am the great blizzard of 1899, and no body shall be exempt from my wrath.

Man,I hope nobody got hit by the turd that was thrown out the window.That would turn someone into a shithead.I wonder if Joe Biden ever took credit for someone else's dump.I wonder if they would call it shitarisim.

(in my best Heinrich Himmler/Josef Mengale voice)

"Vee haf vays to make you sheet!"

To be clearly Biden's work, the size of the poop would also have to be greatly exaggerated.

I wonder how people like Francine's mother evolve. Are they naturally whack or were they raised by other whacked parents? Looking at my family history, my maternal grandfather was raised by a completely anal and WASPY woman. He was also anal and rigidly neat. My mother has been known to be "angular" in her approach to life. Then there's me, who craves chaos on a regular basis. The anal nature of our familial line kind of eroded as time went by. I wonder if this is the natural process of things or if it depends on who one marries (ie, a normal person or a complete slob who dilutes the insanity).

Francine, I'm glad that you've gone on your own path.
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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

I think my Mom was bipolar when it came to pooping.She wanted you to go if you were constipated.She got upset if you stunk up the bathroom or left skid marks,or small turds in the bowl.

Thanks for writing that story, Rosie O'Donnell. Quite frankly, it exlains a lot of things, and I'm sure Dr. Phil could fit you in his tight schedule.

Unfortunately, your decision to sublimate your feelings about poop to the human vagina and licking it on a daily basis will lead to neurosis and producing a series of deeply troubled serial killers when your kids finally get out of reform school.

Tell Kelly I said hi ---by the way, Drano cures yeast infectionz
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Your Baby Ate My Dingo

Merc, you cannot use the words "Rosie O'Donnell" and "tight" in the same paragraph. I don't care what the context is. You have violated some fundamental law.

I can sympathize with Francine. My parents were normal, but every summer they would send me off to spend two or three weeks with my uncle Jim, a free-spirited guy who lived on a wooded acreage in Minnesota, drove a monster truck, always had a lot of money, and he loved to spoil me.

In order to go anywhere, there was considerable driving involved. Like Francine's mother, he was very disciplined and he had quirky ways of doing things.

For example, he showed me how to pump gas for his truck and a little later that week when we stopped at a station, I put the nozzle in before selecting the grade. He yanked it out, swore at me and then did it his way! That hurt me.

When I was about 11, he gave me a hard time at urinals because it was hard for me to get my flow going in a public place--especially the super busy places he would stop at. He would call me "Tinkering Timmy" as a put down. One day we were at an I-94 rest stop. I was quick to go in before him because I wanted to pee before he could stand next to me and harass me.

I noticed that the one open stall had a large amount of nice yellow pee that had not been flushed. I positioned myself in front of it and gave a satisfying sigh as he walked up behind me. I needed a compliment but he just swore and said I had peed like a girl and like a girl had gotten it on the ******* seat. He then sat down and took a crap.

I turned 12 the next year and my parents agreed to send me to summer camp. I enjoyed it and found there were other boys my age that had the same anxiety about using public bathrooms. By the time I was in high school, I got better at being able to produce at the urinals, but on occasion, in really large places I do go into a stall and sit down. It's much more pleasurable, though, when you can sit down without being put down!

Man, that's fucked up! Does your mother come in the bathroom and say "Hey, kid, lemme see your shit?" WTF! XD to DungDaddy + C Everett's comments.

uhmm, no comment right now, I'm tired and I think I'll take a crap and go to bed, goodnight. AlienPoop

It's too bad Drano doesn't cure assholes because I know who I'd pour it on.

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

You are misinformed, Daphne; Drano does cure Assholes. The only problem with Drano for Assholes is that it usually comes with an Assault or Murder charge.

How timely about this tale. I'm working on a scary story about how parents can scar their children for life.

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Deja Poo - Because this shit's so strange, it couldn't ever have happened before.

Wow. Astonishing that someone would be so forceful and demanding in this way that their child would go to such lengths! Very sad, but at least Francine learned from this.

This mother is going to get old and infirm one day-- what do you want to bet that this insanely regimented woman has her Crap Karma come back around and bite her on the ass by becoming incontinent in her advanced age?

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'Hey that sounds pretty nasty, how about a courtesy flush over there?' (AP1)

Francine's mom reminds me of the mom of my best friend when I was growing up. Me and Christa did almost everything together and I spent more time with her family at parks, shows, shopping, etc. than I did my own (because my parents were out of town quite a bit). Christa's mom was anal in a similar way: everytime we said we needed to use a public restroom it was lines like, "Can't you wait, we're going to be home in a half hour," "You should have gone at McDonalds where it would be cleaner," "Don't move so much on the stool because you're going to get off the toilet paper," "I've never sat directly on a public toilet seat and I would never want to," "Why would you put you hand on a public toilet seat to put it down--you can't sit on it anyway!" (this was said to me as I prepared to poop in an open stall bathroom at an amusement park). They had Christa standing over the stool to pee when she was about eight and couldn't believe that I had no qualms about sitting right down! I know that Christa HATED the treatment and other than when we were with her parents, she would sit right down on the toilet. It was her form of protest after all the years of having to "hold it" for fear of more fighting and humiliation.

Hmm reminds me of my mom. Whenever I would have to take a shit we would be out in some public place. My parents would yell at me and say the usual things like "why didn't you go before you left the house?", or "are you sure, can you hold it in?". Well of course I'm sure, I fell the ground hog coming out and If I don't make it to the bathroom your gonna see his shadow all over my pants.

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poop makes the heart grow fonder

I thought fake poop stories week was over! This is the most unbelievable thing I've read in a long time. Okay, so maybe not. My Nana wouldn't let any of her kids flush the toilet until she had a look at it. Some mothers are weirdos!

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If a man farts and no one's around, does he make a sound?

Wow....I'm glad I have a cool mom. Though, there was a time I was constipated, and it resulted in a compacted bowel, and everyday she would ask if I pooped. It was a little unnerving. That was about a year ago. Took a couple gallons of this warm salty laxative liquid stuff to get it all out.

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See that poo? That's MY poo! This is MY territory! Ha ha! So...go sniff around somewhere else, you dumb dog.

My parents were strict about public bathrooms: it was OK to go in and pee but you couldn't use them to have a bowel movement. The seats were filthy and the latter was something that should be done at home. At least Francine's parents let her use the bathrooms, although she doesn't say that they were upset with her apparently sitting directly on the seat without a cover. I can remember back to when I was kindergarten/first grade age and I would announce I had to go to the bathroom. If I was alone with my mom, and that was often the case since my dad traveled a lot with his sales job, she would take me into the ladies room to pee but she would always come up with some excuse on why I needed to hold me BM until I got back home or until we got back to our hotel room. Once I was about 7 or 8 she allowed me to go to the mens room on my own and, like Francine, I became deceptive telling her I had to pee when in reality I would sit down and take a shit. I had a couple of "think fast" moments when I came out of an airport bathroom and at our city's auditorium during a circus. I had taken too long on the stool and she had become suspicious as to why. I would make up excuses such as a couple of the urinals were broken or there was a long line or the one she really felt sorry for me on, I had a hard time getting my flow going. I remember once when we were traveling on the Interstate and we were at a reststop. She asked my dad what was taking me so long and she was livid when he said I was in the stall taking a shit! She said he shouldn't have allowed me to do that and I should have waited! AT AGE 12??? So I can understand the deception Francine had to use. My son is now 6 and I allow him basically free rein on using the bathroom away from home. When he gets up on a public stool I guess I don't worry about seat covering but I insist that he wipe thoroughly and wash his hands. There's been enough anal thinking in our family to last for a couple of generations.

This story and coming back to read the thread just makes me sad. Very, very sad. Seeing that this story ISN'T an isolated incident of upbringing makes me wonder.

My Dad is an absolute Shameless, my mother was, while not shamelessly describing the "record poo" that circled the bowl and took two flushes, did not hide. Tho' she did not advertise either. It was her who taught my sister and me everything so I guess discretion would be a good word for it.

But no one, NO ONE, EVER told us when to or not to use a toilet if we needed to! Not my parents--or any of my many friend's parents when I was younger--EVER told us not to doo what came naturally! That's just ass-tounding to me!

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'Hey that sounds pretty nasty, how about a courtesy flush over there?' (AP1)

My mother had a rule that when me that when any of me and my three sisters were away from home and had to use a public bathroom, we had to produce. The idea was that from a very young age, if we went into a stall and got up on the stool it had to be for a reason and not to just kill time because we were bored waiting around (the airport), we were restless during a vacation (rest stop), or we were trying to avoid something going on in class at school (mandatory nap time in elementary school). Mom was very firm about this rule. She would go into the bathrooms with us and if she didn't hear "activity" (gas, poop hitting the bowl, the trickle of pee, etc.) she would be suspicious and question us. My oldest sister (by two years) would accompany us in--often she was the one who didn't have to go but she would still, on her own will, go into a stall and sit down. She said it was just to break up the boredom. Sometimes she wouldn't even take her pants down--just sit with her clothing up just like to you would on a chair. Once we were just killing time at a Des Moines airport stopover (she was about 10 at the time)and she was in the stall and on the stool. I was next door helping my 4-year-old sister get up on the stool (she was afraid to let her feet leave the floor so she could sit more back more comfortably and not pee on the front of the bowl)when mom peaked in on my sister next door. Mom was upset because she was just sitting with her shorts up. However, my sister opened the door for mom and pointed to a stool full of pee and Mom bought the story. She also bought that my sister was staying in the stall because she felt a bowel movement coming on. I don't have children yet, and my husband who has a daughter, 6, from an earlier marriage, is also concerned that children will try and take advantage of the availability of public restrooms as a way to stall, avoid tasks, and sometimes get attention. I'm sure there is a compromise available, but I just haven't come up with it yet.

I was also involved as a teenager in the deception similar to what was described by Francine and Cassidee. The youth director at our church was a woman in her mid-20s who was attending our city's college to get a degree in Christian education/youth service. While she was like an older sister to a lot of us and planned a lot of fun activities for us that got us out of the house a lot when we were a year or two shy of work permit or driving age, when we were traveling she always wanted to make sure we got enough to eat and that we ate it, called our parents at regular intervals, and, yes, when we were going to Bible camp and teen activities in nearby cities, that we regularly went to the bathroom. Most of us were 12, 13 or 14 and we thought it was stupid of her to so closely monitor our habits. She would frequently get on my case at places like sledding parties because I would throw my parka aside to get better leverage and, well, because I wanted to!
I remember once when about 10 of us were in a van going on a ski trip. She would stop every two hours or so along I-80. The first couple of stops we had some members who were really "holding it" and couldn't wait for the van to stop. I didn't have to go but she insisted that I leave the van and try. It pissed me off momentarily but I walked into the bathroom and hung out with the others when they finished and washed their hands. Two hours later when I was sleeping in the back of the van I was awakened and forced to go in and "try". I saw her go into the end stall and could hear her rather loud stream of pee hitting the water. I noticed that the stall next to her was open and, upon closer look, I found there was a nice selection of yellow pee that had not been flushed. I sat down on the cold and sticky seat and took a water bottle out of my parka pocket and ever so slowly poured it between my legs from a shoulder length level. I took the minuscule amount of toilet paper from the roll and jammed it in my pocket. As she was leaving her stall, I complained of not having any toilet paper and when she handed me some, I got up from the stool so she could see what I had produced. Now that I was following her instructions, she didn't insist that I leave the van at the next couple of stops. I guess my evidence made her day!

When I was out alone with my mom, she would take me into the womens room until I was about 8--may be even 9 when we were at highly public places lke airports or the civic center. Like Francine, I found it embarrassing because at first, when I was younger, she would select the stall, ask me if I had to go #l or #2 and then walk me in and prepare me. If it was #l she would take toilet paper and lift the seat, and then demonstrate for me how to flush the stool by using your left foot. When it was #2, she would pull out one of those paper tissues and put it on the seat for me. This was especially embarrassing when I had friends along because most of their parents didn't go through such a ritual. My best friend Jason gave me the idea of basically faking Mom out by beating her to the stall, latching the door and then getting privacy. Eventually, she would go along with that BUT she had to hear me pull off tissue, lift the seat, pee and then flush with my foot. Once I "forgot" to pull the lever on the seat cover dispenser and she peeked in on me and saw my shorts down to my ankles and me sitting on the bare seat. She forced me to take an immediate bath when we got home and took away my play privileges for a week. I'm trying to stay away from being so anal with my son, who is 6. Travis and Stacie, you have my sympathy.

Boy that must suck always having to tell your mom if you taken a dump yet! hahahahaha

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We live. We poop. We wipe.

I sure am glad my mother stopped looking at my poop when I was out of diapers!

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No one is the same after I release my Methane!

I so feel for Josiah. Having his mother take him into public restrooms when he was with friends and at age 8 or 9 is bad enough. On top of that, to have her peak in on him, see that he had faked covering the seat and was sitting directly on it (like most normal boys of that age he just wanted to do like his friends)and then make him take an extra bath and give him additional punishment, he must have been really embarrassed!

I'm 29 and the mother of a 6 year old boy and 8 year old daughter. I've seen anal mothers in public restrooms and Josiah's posting has convinced me that it's better that they gain confidence in their independence, rather than to worry them with insane sanitation issues that frankly I didn't worry about until I graduated from high school. Josiah's mother seems to border on the abusive side and creeps me out!

From reading the postings one could conclude there are very few nurturing parents out there. Francine seems to have recognized that her mother was a discipline-dictator. The Tinkler's uncle appeared to have hang-ups as did Full-Stool Stacie's church youth director and, of course, Josiah's mom.

What is it about public restrooms that brings out the worst in adults who are supervising children? My brother and I are both in college, hard-working, middle-class students and feel we had wonderful parents who explained and helped us analyze things, rather than yell, swear and dictate.

For example, mom would ask me at about age 5 whether I wanted to go into a stall alone or have her with me. I got to make the choice and that was encouraging to me. Once we were at a Sox game, and by choice, I went in alone. I knew I had to get over my fear of latching the door in such places and I fully engaged the lever. I took a full poop on my own and when I went to wipe, I got scared that there was no toilet paper on the roll. When mom checked up on me, I sat there and told her what happened and she went into another stall and got me a liberal amount of paper. That night she related to me a story of how grandma helped her out of the same situation twenty some years before that when she was at the circus and out of toilet paper. The lesson, she said, was to look for toilet paper when choosing the stall and to remind yourself to do it by tearing a couple of pieces off and wiping the front of the seat off before sitting down. It remains part of my routine, even when I'm visiting someone else's home.

My brother is who two years older than me, appreciated not being dragged into the women's room (like Travis & Josiah were). When he was alone with mom and me, she would go out of her way to accommodate his restroom needs. She liked gas stations and convenience stores because he would have the whole restroom to himself without interference or harassment. Once, when dad was out of town and we were paying a fee at city hall, we stood outside a men's room on the third floor (mom's rationale was there was less traffic in there)and when no one went in or came out after about five minutes mom allowed my brother to go in on his own. He was about seven and thought the wait was worth it to be able to go in unassisted on his own. Although he complained to us that the urinal he peed in was overflowing, mom reviewed with him the other options he had, including using a stall--something he admitted he had not stopped to think about. Although he got his tennis shoes a little wet, mom complimented him on being independent. However, she said he should lift the seat first before peeing in a public toilet. This was all done without the putdowns of Uncle Jim or the unreasonable expectations of Cassidee's mom.

My brother and I are not honor students, nor are we perfect people. Rather we were empowered by our parents rather than put down and yelled at. One conclusion I've drawn, and I'm a history rather than child psychology major, is that parents tend to make using public restrooms stressful, something that brings out the worst in all involved.

Hmmm...Turd plagarism?

And I thought my family was controlling. Although they do subtly do so... I have really bad IBS, so often I have to go to the bathroom immediately following a meal... And they'd be angry at me if they had errands to run or something and I needed to stop and go to the bathroom, or wanted to go home right away if we were nearby. :/

Francine's posting sure caught my attention. Although she doesn't give her age, when I was about 11 my parents were also on my case when traveling by car. My parents were obsesseed however with peeing. I admit I had caused the problem about a year earlier when we were on a 3-week car trip vacation and I would get bored, and so I would complain that I had to pee. My dad would complain about just having stopped an hour ago and that I needed to "discipline my bladder" by learning to make the best of the rest stop opportunities and then holding it until there was a "logical" (I never figured out what that meant other than to eat or he or mom had to go to the bathroom!)reason to stop off somewhere. At first, he would give in and we'd stop at a gas station or rest area and I would go in, but because I didn't have to pee, I would just sit and fake it. I-80 from Chicago to Colorado is so boring and without the breaks I figured I would be even more bored and the trip would suck even worse. Then on the next trip he would get more demanding about going in, sitting and relaxing so that I could pee and we wouldn't have to stop for another 3 or 4 hours. My mom thought I wasn't able to go because I wasn't taking my time and "concentrating". And she would constantly be badgering me ("I hope you peed because we're not stopping until we get to our motel in Omaha!") until once close to Des Moines I lucked out at a gas station just like Francine. I went in and latched the door of the lone stall bathroom and methodically sat down and counted off about two minutes. Then I opened the door for mom and showed her a bowl of really yellow pee. She was so proud of me you could see the satisfaction on her face as she flushed and prepared to sit down and make a contribution of her own. When we got back home, I remember telling my best friend about my parents' obsession with forced public peeing and how I had learned to deceive them. Ashley said it was strange that all the users that don't remember to flush sure help out users such as me. I got to thinking about it and yeh, that's right!

An interesting subthread to this question is finding a use--however odd--for unflushed toilets in public places. I have found my share of these, but never had to use them to fake my own contribution. It is good to see evidence that even these oppressed children find resourceful ways to ease their difficulties--just find a toilet with pee and/or poop already in it, and claim it as their own! Who would be able to prove otherwise?

I always made "peepeetime" FUN for my kids. And it worked wonders.

It's too bad this concept is lost with some parents. I know it's hard to potty train a kid, but goddamn, if an adult can't control themselves to not buy something they don't need or not to hit their kid, how can a toddler or child be expected to be perfect?

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

Daphne, I guess my parents raised me right, 'cause peepeetime is still fun for me.

A thousand multi-colored Cheerios to you, sir. And your progeny.

Bombs away!

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

Do you have any milk?

My parents nicknamed me "Fast" because when I had to do something that wasn't particularly interesting or pleasant, I would do it as quickly as possible just to get it done and off my back. For example, if I was forced to eat lunch before going out to play with my friends, I would down my food as fast as possible so as not to keep them waiting on the lot across from our house. It was the same with the bathroom when we were out away from home. Now it's strange that I'm getting all these ideas from the likes of Francine, Josiah and Annamarie that would have helped me immensely 20 years ago. I remember once when I came in from a three or four hour baseball game smelling of crap and my mom was livid that I hadn't come across the street earlier to relieve myself. She was so afraid I was going to wreck up my system. But because I was prone to constipation and the doctor had suggested childrens milk of magnesia or an enema after three days, I would have so loved the ideas from this site. Unlike Bill Clinton, I was not a good liar and having your mom give you an enema over the bed at age 10 was not something I looked forward to. One hot July afternoon me and my friends had been playing ball at a park three blocks from home. It was Day #3 and the first thing mom confronted me with was that I was about four hours away from an enema. I told her I had taken a large crap at the park, but she refused to believe it and knew the restrooms were not opened unless an official park activity was taking place. I just went into the bedroom and pulled down my jeans and underwear and awaited the injection. While it didn't hurt much, it was so humiliating. Where were the Josiahs, Francines and Annamaries when I needed them?

Fast Matt asks where the Josiahs, Francines and Annamaries were when he was growing up? Well, we learned to hold our shits until we got home because of the filthy conditions of most public restrooms. When I absolutely have to use a public toilet, flushing the evidence of the repugnant experience isn't likely to escape my mind.

I very seldom leave unflushed turds but when I do, no one tries to claim them. My feelings are hurt.

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Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

My younger brother when he was about 11 had success 3 or 4 times deceiving our step-father. What made it easy for us to do what Francine did was we were often at arenas (we are a sports-oriented family) where one side of the room would be urinals and sinks and the other wall would be the 20 or so stalls. Dad always shit each morning right after getting out of bed. So at the large public places, he would be in the room adjacent to us at a urinal while my brother and I would look for a well-stocked toilet.

Then Reg would seat himself and I would wait for dad to come through so he could do his inspection of the evidence. As I think back almost 20 years ago, it was sad the way he treated Reg. The first time we tried it, he criticized Reg for picking a stall where the toilet paper was gone (oooopppps!) and on the second time, he yelled at Reg for not using one of those pre-cut seat covering papers.

There's enough shit-filled bowls out there and enough anal asshole parents to keep the toilets in use.

I agree with Crapper Chad: "There's enough shit-filled bowls out there and enough anal asshole parents to keep the toilets in use." My upbringing, however, was different than many of those who have posted above. Me and my little sister had to show what we had produced at home before our parents allowed us to leave for places such as amusement parks and stadiums. "The toilets are just too dirty for anyone to sit on there, dear" was what we heard from our mother. She never was able to explain, however, the hundreds of people in line to use them at every event. So Sis and I would fake flush the toilet and brag about how relieved we were after our early morning crap or pees. Each of us would have been held back from family activities a few times if we had asked for a laxative. Deception was our only ticket out.

After reading some of the comments above, I guess me and my three sisters were somewhat "lucky", although we didn't know it at the time. We had a small house with only one bathroom and we'd be waiting in line when our parents would yell at us about making the family late for whatever event it was. We were encuraged to hold our pees and craps until we got to our destination, or at least got on the road. Dad especially would freak if we were later to arrive at the airport than he had planned. It would be hard for us to produce if we could hear Dad honking the horn or gunning the engine downstairs. We just learned to hold it and not piss him off.

I was a constipated child, and there were many occasions where I was asked by my mother if I went #2, or if I had to go to the bathroom was it for pee or poop. If it was to poop, she always wanted to see my product after, to make sure. I am a shameless shitter, and I will use any bathroom that is clean and has toilet paper. I was never scolded by my parents if I had to go poop away from home, in fact, I was encouraged to do so. I was always told a bathroom is a bathroom. To this day, I will have no qualms about dropping a deuce at a park, stadium, restaurant, wherever I may be when the need arises.

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In search of the ever evasive BM

Uprooted is right in suggesting that airports bring out the worst in bathroom users. When my Mom would fly out for business meetings and I would go along, she was obsessed with getting to the airport early. We'd arrive and then came the dreaded order: "You need to go in and go the bathroom." I wouldn't have to go but she would overreact and make me "sit and try". Once, in Chicago it was really crowded and she was behind me in line. I had been constipated for a three or four day period and got the lucky stall. I sat right down, didn't flush and proudly showed it to mom as I opened the door for her to see and faked my cleaning of myself. She was so proud. That night I got my favorite dinner at a nice restaurant but to this day--at 36--I still hate airport bathrooms.

wow thats some twisted shit. my kids are the opposite. one of them forgets to flush and they all jump to the it wasn't me whenever the dump is discovered. does her mom call her up and ask her about her shit still, i wonder?

Francine's story brings back a lot of memories for me. My mom accused me of stalling when I was like 10 or 11 and said I needed to use the bathroom. However, I learned to run ahead of her, quickly find an unflushed toilet, and I would add some grunts and groans when she came in to check up on me. Sure I was sitting there with my panties down to the floor and I would stand and show her what was in the stool, and she would always compliment me. Still, some 40 years later I still feel guilty. But I would never have wanted to put my two boys and three daughters thru what I had experienced. Never!

I believe that is called a pseudo poo.

Like Francine, I too had a mother who micro-managed when we were out and needed to use public bathrooms.

Until the summer that grandma (she was 84 and had come to live with us until an assisted living apartment opened)came down for an extended visit, it was my job to assist my sister who was 6 when she had to go to the bathroom. I was 15 and was assigned to help grandma onto the stool because her knees were bad and she was really shaky on her feet. We were heading for a restaurant at the mall. Pretty much all at once I needed to crap bad and after I helped her onto the stool to pee, I heard the toilet next door flush and I quickly went in and seated myself and had a complete evacuation within like 30 seconds. I knew my butt was messy but when I went to wipe, I discovered there was no toilet paper on the roll. As I sat, I asked grandma to hand me some under the partition--which she did. Mom was with my sister a couple of stalls away, heard our conversation, and was pissed to find that I was "defying" her by sitting directly on a public toilet seat. I overheard her saying some really negative things to my sister, too.

Within about 30 seconds there was a crash in the stall next to mine as grandma tried to get off the stool on her own, and lost her balance and crashed directly into the door. She broke the frame of her glasses, but didn't get hurt seriously. Mom and sis went out to the parking lot to bring the car around, while I held on to grandma and carefully led her out of the stall. As I glanced back into her stall, I noticed that she hadn't flushed and when I was starting to lead her back in so I could quickly push the flusher button, she stopped me and said some 75 years ago as a young girl she never flushed in public places. She and her friends apparently got a lot of satisfaction out of leaving their "treasures" in the bowl for the next user.

Although I don't fully understand the reason behind it, other posters such as Francine do benefit, I guess.

WE NEED A FRONT PAGER OUT OF THIS!! WHY DON'T YOU PEOPLE LEAVE YOUR EMAIL ADDRESSES????

agh.

angst.

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com