Welcome back the boys of summer
April E. Clark
Summer can bring out the best, and sometimes the worst, in kids.
I was reminded of the trials and tribulations of children playing in the summer sun last week after a call from my best friend Megan in Indiana.
“You’re going to love this one,” she said.
I had a feeling I would.
I could sense the humor in her voice – which is always there unless something really tragic happens. I knew it was going to be a doozie.
Megan’s a nurse who works nights so she has many mornings and afternoons to spend with her boys, Cameron and Nolan. On this particular June day, Megan’s youngest, who is 6, was playing with twin neighbor boys on the Slip ‘n’ Slide in the yard.
Here comes trouble.
I’m pretty much a 6-year-old stuck in a 37-year-old’s body. So any story involving a Slip ‘n’ Slide has my name written all over it. I’m ready anytime for an official adult version of the outdoor water toy to hit the market so I can be their pitchwoman, Billy Mays-style. Just think of the cross-promotion between the ShamWow and Slip ‘n’ Slide.
A virtual marketing tsunami.
After setting up the scenario that the boys were outside playing on the Slip ‘n’ Slide, Megan mentioned that indoors, her house was getting an upgrade with all-wood floors downstairs. This required the downstairs bathroom toilet to be sitting outside on the deck until the floor stain dried.
It might be important in this juncture to mention the temperature in Indy that day was in the 90s. Which, with the humidity, can feel more like 100 in the Midwest.
So there they were, the three 6-year-old boys, playing on the Slip ‘n’ Slide on a hot summer day. Normally one would think a toilet sitting outside on a deck is not in service.
Megan’s probably wishing she had made a sign.
She was indoors at the time, so Meg did not witness the incident on what I’m now calling the poop deck. She did hear the knock on the back door though.
“Mom, I need you,” Nolan yelled.
The boys looked serious, which is usually a dead give-away they’ve done something bad.
In this case, very bad.
“Tell her,” Nolan said, urging his friend to spill the truth. “Tell her what you did.”
“I pooped in your toilet right there,” the perpetrator – who will remain unnamed – flatly replied.
“You did what?” she said.
Megan admits she wanted to scream, but she kept her cool.
“Do you just poop in random toilets? ” she asked, in amazement.
Hey, maybe he thought he was camping. I’ve seen some random toilets out there in my day.
Meg gave the boys towels so they could dry off and walked away to think about the conversation.
“I felt like I was in a movie,” she said. “Like I should look for a Candid Camera.”
I can hear Allen Funt now.
“Smile, (the neighbor kid thinks you have outdoor plumbing on your deck) you’re on Candid Camera!”
Meg couldn’t help but laugh, then call me. She imagined the little guy just hanging out on the deck, taking care of business while enjoying the beautiful view of the neighborhood pond.
Not quite a Norman Rockwell painting.
More like Bart Simpson.
She’s just happy Nolan was the one who knew that was not the right thing to do.
Potty training just took on a whole new meaning.
April E. Clark remembers doing some pretty naughty stuff as a kid involving smoke bombs and breaking her mom’s antique china soup ladle. But this one tops it. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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