If poo grosses you out, now might be a good time to consider skipping this post.
When Sully got fussy, I took him to the restroom to change his diaper and feed him. As I was changing him, I heard an old lady breathing heavily as she exited a restroom stall. She staggered out the door without washing her hands. After she left, I made my way to the mother's lounge, but glanced under the bathroom stall as I passed and discovered a huge pile of diarrhea on the floor. Then on closer inspection, I noticed that the old lady had tracked it out the door. Worried that someone would step in the mess, I put Sully down in the mother's lounge, then laid some paper towels on the floor to begin wiping up some of the mess, but Sully started screaming bloody murder, so I quickly wiped up the bulk of the tracks and shoved the towels into the stall with my foot.
Sully was purple from screaming by this time, so I fed him, thinking I'd try to clean up afterwards. We don't have a church custodian. Church members take turns cleaning the church on Saturdays, so if I left the mess, someone else would have to figure it out or it would sit for a week. But I'm not much of a problem solver. I just couldn't figure out what I was gonna do about all that poo.
When I looked in the stall after I finished feeding Sully, I discovered it was worse than I'd thought. Poo was everywhere. It was smeared all over the toilet seat, dripping from the outside of the bowl, and in piles all over the floor. There was enough toilet paper in the toilet that flushing would surely cause overflowing. I didn't know where to start. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were kept.
I went back to class and told Ryan about it, thinking he'd know what to do. He didn't, so we just sat there for a while, but I couldn't pay attention to the lesson because I had poo on the brain. So I went back to the bathroom and found Kay scrubbing the carpet. She'd discovered the poo too, and she didn't know where to start either, but she figured she'd at least get it out of the carpet outside the bathroom. Then she had the brilliant idea to use a trash bag to scoop the toilet paper out of the toilet, but she didn't dare do it in her church duds. So I did it, and it worked like magic. We continued to give each other moral support until the poo was gone. Now we share the bond of poo, and I may never be able to look at her again without thinking of poo. I will also never be able to use that stall. And I will always check to make sure the pew I sit in is clean because I don't know where that incontinent, old lady went after she left the bathroom.