I can’t talk. My voice is just about gone. I think its a combination of allergies and just plain wearin’ it out this past weekend. So, with every conversation leading me to more frustration over not being heard, my keyboard is quite the solace. And thankfully, my lack of volume just led me into a funny situation.
Let me tell you about it.
Now, to my knowledge, this is only the second blog I’ve ever written based on an experience I had in a bathroom. Want to read the other one? Click here.
If bathroom-based blogs are not your thing, then feel free to stop here. But don’t.
Just a few minutes ago, I felt it time to pay a visit to the little boy’s room. Since I am in a church building, the bathroom is made for more than one person and so when I walked in a saw a boy who was undoubtedly elementary school aged. We stood side-by-side, taking care of business and I sensed he was a bit stand-offish. It was just the two of us, and he didn’t know me from Adam, so I suppose that’s natural. In a well-meaning effort to alleve his discomfort, as we were standing at the sinks washing our hands, I thought I’d say “How you doin’?” but remember, my voice is shot. So now I’ve got this poor kid standing next to a perfect stranger who seems to be growling at him. He looked at me in the mirror and didn’t say a word, though his eyes seemed to say, “AAHHHHHH!!!!” I felt bad for that, so I tried to be a bit clearer: “How’s your day goin’?” But to him, it was just another, slightly louder growl from the psycho bathroom man.
I quickly decided that trying to communicate with this kid was a lost cause that was doing more harm than good and I realized just how much I scared him when I was drying my hands at the air dryer and he left the room, hands dripping wet, skipping the air dryer all together.