Last Saturday, we went to one of my favorite places on earth, Riven Rock; and as a bonus, we got to go with some friends.
In the middle of the fun, exciting, hey-mom-look-at-me moments came an occurrence that cracked me up big time. Moriah needed to go to the bathroom, so I took her to the outhouse there in the park. That particular outhouse is never particularly pleasant, but it was particularly UNpleasant on this day, so I was hurrying Moriah along--NOT a particularly easy task, by the way, for a girl in a wet swimming suit who has to struggle to get it down and then up and put arms in the right holes and so forth. Guys have it so much easier. ;-)
As we were finally ready to make our hasty exit from the outhouse, Moriah was chattering away, and I was only half listening...until she remarked about the automatic flusher.
Indeed, it did sound like the sound of running water; but everyone knows there's no flush mechanism--automatic or not--in an outhouse.
What Moriah didn't realize--but I did, much to my amusement--is that the thin walls of the outhouse, although sufficient to prevent sight, did nothing to diminish hearing; and the "automatic flusher" that she heard was actually a gentleman relieving himself in the men's part of the outhouse, directly adjacent to the women's part!!!
Oh, dear me, I could barely control myself as I fought the urge to just hoot and holler about her mistaken impression of the refinements of that bathroom. Automatic flusher indeed!!! :)