But a matched set is priceless. The paper in the top picture says, 'Proof of
Hemorrhoids reading.' The paper on the bottom picture says, "Hemorrhoids revenge"
Would you like to hear one of my stories?
Alright, then, here it is. I am an obsessive reader. There's a bit of a story as to why that is, too. But we'll stay on task today and talk about that later. When I was 10-12 years old, I had noticed that when someone, *cough* Dad, went into the bathroom with reading material and turned on what I thought of as the noisy light, he could be in there for-ev-er, and no one tried to get him out. In a house with five females and 2 bathrooms, this was a big deal. To be able to read without having to do my chores or be bothered, I would turn on the noisy light(don't worry, by the time I was 22 I knew what it really was for) sit and read. For hours, or just a half hour. When my family figured out what was really going on, they all thought I was actually sitting on the toilet the entire time I was in there, when I was really on the floor or in the bathtub reading. Out of concern for my well being, my father said, "You can't keep doing that, you'll get hemorrhoids." Well, I didn't know what that was, and neither did The Quilter; but we did know it was associated with the toilet, and anything that is preceded by "or you'll" is Not. Good. And thus, The Quilter had a way to get me out of the bathroom, fast. She would stand outside the bathroom door and, in the exact same tone and volume as Bill Cosby saying 'Hey, Fat Albert!' She would shout,
And as long as I wasn't actually using the bathroom, I would come running out, ready to attack. And that's where the picture comes from. The Quilter thought I was in there reading, grabbed the camera, threw the door open, and clicked the picture. But I wasn't just reading, I was also actually using the bathroom. Thanks goodness I was wearing my footie jammies with a booty opening! Otherwise it could have been REALLY embarrassing! Also, if you could please disregard my 'fro, that was my mother's doing. How did I get this picture? My Mom found it, and knew just what to do with it, so we all got a copy.
As soon as I saw the other photo, I knew exactly what I was going to do. If ever you come to my house and use the front bathroom, when you leave it, you'll see these two photos; and now you know the story. And yes, I do realise this is the second story I've told you about me and a toilet. Ah, well, you can't hide everything!