I find this story quite fitting of this blog.
So I was at my 3rd sister’s house having a family dinner in celebration of my dad’s birthday (and Father’s Day for that matter). It was drawing near the end of the night, when my 2nd sister lost her phone for some reason.
The entire family started a nationwide search for this missing phone (which incidentally 2nd Sis didn’t really like anyway but refused to admit it in public), beginning with looking in every bag, under every chair, inside every container, under every bed blanket, etc. in the house. We then proceeded to look around the swimming pool, in the carpark, in the car that was in the car park, calling multiple times and not getting connected (which led us to think the phone was stolen and switched off) before we decided to give up looking.
Having had a rather filling steamboat dinner, some of which contained half-cooked meat, I decided to visit my 3rd sis’ ivory throne before moving on home for the night. (At this point you will probably have guessed where I am going with this, but just carry on reading for the heck of it.) After about 2 or 3 efforts of concentration, I pushed down the flush button, and subsequently experienced a moment of every visiting house guest’s nightmare.
The toilet won’t flush. Not only that, it was choking; the water was rising up, with a floater threatening to jump at me.
While some of the water did go down eventually (thankfully bringing down one of my efforts of concentration down with it), I still had to contend with a floater and a wad of tissue stuck at the mouth of the bidet. Waiting a minute for the water to refill, I tried again. This time the floater managed to squeeze through the wad of tissue (?) and while the water rose up a little again, I saw something shiny peeping out from the wad of tissue.
That’s when I realised that was not so much a wad of tissue as it was a square of tissue with a mobile phone hiding behind it.
My first instinct was to pick up the phone, which I did with my left hand. Yep, reached right into the throat of my beloved seat of contemplation without a second thought… yet. It was later that I was informed my 2nd Sis had visited this common loo with the mobile phone in her back pocket in the late afternoon, and I had only found it after 9pm, during which time, my sister had cleared her bowels, the kids and cleared their bladders, and I had gloriously added to the fracas that short-circuited the mobile phone with my digested bits of the day. I endeavor to thoroughly disinfect my left hand with chlorine over the next 3 days.
As advised by my eldest sister (so we have established I have a total of 3 sisters only), I will end this with a philosophical thought.
The younger brother will always be picking up his older sister’s shit. But not without giving her some shit of his own first.