The really big poop story

On the same vacation as The road trip fight story, we stayed in Rogue River, Oregon at the Weasku Inn.

My Unca Rob lives nearby, and kept calling it the Whydon’tyoucome Inn. Unca Rob is either getting old, or he’s still got it. Who can tell?

This place is a dream. Instead of motel rooms, you get an A-frame cabin with bedrooms and a living room. The soaps in the bathroom smell woodsy. We had a fireplace and a back porch over the river.

To eat, you walk across a lawn my son called the Frisbee park to the lodge. There was a big dining room, a billiard area and a community bathroom.

That’s where I saw it.

I spent the whole drive home from work today trying to think of adjectives to describe the size of this thing. It was just smaller than a loaf of bread.

I had gone in to pee. When I found it there my eyes went wide. I ran out and called in everybody to see it. Would you believe they came running?

Normally I would have worried they’d think I had made it, but not this time.

My husband said, “Someone feels really good right now.”

There was no flushing it. The diameter of the toilet’s hole was too small by half.

My husband went to alert an employee.

I spent the rest of our stay trying to figure out who it was, but none of the large men was walking funny.


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5 Responses to “The really big poop story”

  1. gunky Says:

    would you believe it? I REMEMBER THIS STORY!

  2. T. Says:

    This is just about the only memory I have that you weren’t a witness to, and this is the one you remember.
    If you had stayed home during our childhood, maybe you would remember the puffy-sleeved leotards.

  3. T. Says:

    I will forever regret that I didn’t take a picture of this. I had my camera in my purse.

  4. gunky Says:

    ok, i vaguely remember the heather gray and the print. but not the rest!

  5. T. Says:

    You don’t remember your huge knockers?

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