It was an unbelievably beautiful day to be at Flag Pole Hill for our monthly Girl Scout meeting. Scavenger Hunt, leaf identification, the making of a solar energy poster, delicious snacks, great comraderie, nine year old girls running and playing and having a blast being together.
Then a trip to the port-o-john was requested by one of my girls. I escorted her and had her wait a moment while I opened the door to check it out.
I’m a well-traveled, nicely seasoned forty something gal who’s seen a whole lot of johns in a whole lot of countries. (A dozen years ago I toyed with doing a coffee table book entitled, ‘Toilets I have Toured’). I’ve read a whole lot of potty poetry – in several languages. I’ve never seen anything quite as vulgar as what was in this standing sewer. As beautiful as the day was, that’s how ugly the words were.
Best I could do was tell my girl, ’Honey, keep your eyes closed’.
Yo, Park and Rec Department. Get thee to Flag Pole Hill with some Clorox Clean-up. Kids can read.
