Let’s face it: my foot just wears my mouth as a shoe

I recently went to a weekend winter camp as a counselor (I know… how am I qualified?) and overheard one of my campers reading some pretty bad fanfic.

Me: Oh man that is the worst! It sounds like a 4th grader wrote it! So much angst and all of the sentences are structured exactly the same. Please spare me.

Student: I know right? It’s just bad! Here’s a different one I wrote…


The Time I Bombed Target’s Bathroom

It was my time of the month and I was out of tampons so I ran to target to get some. Immediately after I bought them I need to use them, so I made my way to the women’s restroom right behind a Target employee. She went into a stall and immediately ran out of it like a monster was peeking out of the toilet so I decided to not take my chances and go in a different stall. When I got in there and sat down I realized that I also had the period poops.

The super stinky, how-can-my-body-hold-so-much-crap poops.

While doing my own thing, I heard two other girls enter and use the bathroom. Suddenly, one of them says, “My toilet won’t flush!” To which the other replies, “Mine won’t either!” Then I hear an employee explain that the toilets aren’t functioning and that the bathroom is being closed for maintenance.

So the obvious response is to pray and pray that my toilet is the exception to this restroom breakdown. It wasn’t.

I tried to flush the mess I had just made but the water level started rising higher and higher. I did the fastest hand washing of all time as I heard the toilet water and all the contents that I had just put in there start to splash on the floor!

I ran as fast as I could out of the bathroom to the exit while yelling “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” to the employee with the mop bucket entering the now-bombed bathroom.


How about just never throw stones?

4th grade was a tough year for me. Long division, an over-crowded classroom, and the worst yard duty lady of all time. She was old and mean and wore giant glasses attached to a string of glass beads. I feel like this woman was present in everyone’s childhood because every time I describe her I get a resounding “Oh, I know what you mean.”

Being the 4th grader that I was, my friend and I were trying to see how high we could throw a rock into the air. We were so cool. We had thrown the rock a few times and I knew I could really throw it high if I put my whole body into the motion. I got a little carried away and arched my back enough to send the rock flying backward over my head and directly into the leg of the horrible yard duty lady.

She came screaming over to me and shoved her nose so close to mine that my eyes watered from trying to look at her through her coke bottle glasses. She screamed and yelled at me for what felt like 2 recesses and finally determined that multiple sessions of detention were the only cure for a 4th grader’s desire to throw stones.

Im pretty sure I have thrown plenty of rocks since then. Those detentions didn’t take, I guess.

6th-Graders Are The Worst

I help with the worship on Wednesday morning chapel at the Christian school connected to my church. When worship is done I go and sit with the kids and listen to the message. On one of these days I was chewing on my lip and it made an incriminating fart noise that made the surrounding group of 6th-grade girls turn around and throw offended looks at me. I tried to motion that the noise was definitely made with my mouth and not with my butt but I don’t think they believed me.

I am 24 and still embarrassed.