STORY 2 FROM THE TOILET SEAT.A
The lock on the door clicked into place. A great sigh of relief escaped me. This toilet is fast becoming my sanctuary I mused leaning back against the coolness of the white porcelain cistern. My eye takes in the Sunday supplement somebody has been reading and left behind them. I settled down on the toilet seat to thumb through the ‘You’ magazine. Quickly I flick past the fashion models with their baby faces and size zero bodies. After all the overeating and – ahmm – liquid calories I consumed over the past week of, ‘the Family Birthday Party,’ my body resembles a large goose egg in shape.
Oh but what a week! The extended family, their offspring’s and grandchildren started to arrive on Thursday (four days BEFORE St Patrick’s day) They came by boats, trains and planes from as far flung places Australia, France and Scotland. Of course, not to be outdone the Irish contingent from: Donegal, Derry, Bambridge, Dublin, Larne, Sion Mills and Strabane were up for the challenge.
I clipped my pen carefully onto the top of the book I write my articles in and stretch out to place it safely on top of the wicker linen wash basket. It shivered for a moment before the lid dipped and the book disappears into the middle of the ever present towels and clothes for washing. “If they had to carry the water from the pump like I had to before the clothes could be washed they’d wear them a bit longer,” I grumbled.
A small colourful card slide out from the magazine and flutter onto my knee. A free sample of perfume or make-up, I think. But Wait. It’s an invitation to a onesie party for men in a nightclub. A party? What’s a onesie?
I fish out the new phone I got for Christmas and sign in to Google
Onesie animal print and supermen Baby Suits for men!
I can’t help it. I open my gob and let out a great big belly laugh. Images from a documentary I had seen where men went to ‘a mummy’ and she put them in sleep suits and stuck a great big enormous soother in their mouths before putting them down for a ‘nap’ in a huge baby cot, leaped unheeded into my mind.
“You alright in there, Mum?” a voice called through the jamb of the door.
“I’ll be out shortly,” I chortled scrabbling about in the wash basket for my pen that had become separate from my book of articles.
A onesie party. Grown men in all-in-one pyjamas – a pyjama party for men! I can’t stop the images crowding into my head. Now my eyes are all blurry from the tears running down my cheeks and my glasses need cleaning
I was supposed to be using the seclusion of the toilet seat to write a serious article on a health problem. It’s no use. I’m all a titter with giggling now. It’ll have to wait until the crazy birthday party week feeling leaves me and the images of grown men in baby suits sucking Budweiser from a beer bottle with a large baby teat on the end of it leave my mind.
Thank you for taking the time to read my Frivolous Thursday Thoughts
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Gemma Hill Writeyou Writeme 