I read an hilarious blog today from Bill Boggs (billyann-journal.blogspot.com) in poetic form about the glory days of outhouses---and, wow, did this trigger a memory.
Many years ago, back in the Dark Ages when I was twelve or so, my father took my two brothers and me fishing in northern Michigan. We stayed in a wonderful log cabin that had water but the plumbing was "out back".
I had never used a privy before, and it was a single holer. but, being a smart and logical kid, I quickly figured it out. I carefully spread that white powder around the hole of the seat and then sat down and did my business.
Shortly thereafter, I wondered why my butt was burning, and it got worse as the day progressed. That night, when I undressed, my oldest brother commented, "What the heck is wrong with your butt---you've got a red ring around it." My father came over and took a look and quickly hit on the solution. "Did you get some of that lime on your rear when you put it down the hole?" I then confessed that I had put it around the hole, not in the hole.
I heard about that one for years!
At least you didn't fall in.
ReplyDeleteThat one triggered memories for me too.
ReplyDelete