Sliding into First...

So you guys enjoyed my mom's email so much the other day, I thought you might also enjoy this email I received from my brother.

From my brother (who is an Assistant Principal at an Elementary School):

Okay, there I was minding my business working in my office. All of a sudden one of our secretary's is at my door saying "I really need your help, in a BIG way"... Okay, so what is it?

(SIDEBAR - as one of a handful of males working in an estrogen infested workplace, I am use to killing bugs, carrying heavy boxes, and having those 'boy talks)

So, she goes on to tell me that Johnny (name changed to save his integrity) needs help changing clothes

(SIDEBAR #2 - When boys wet themselves, I am always asked to oversee the changing process for liability reasons)

So, I get up from the work I am doing, planning to go see what size clothes Johnny needs. I walk out and little Johnny says "I had diarrhea" Wonderful! I then look down and see it dripping out of his shoe... SO...the counselor is hunting for clean clothes as I take him to the restroom to change.

We walk in and he takes his shoe off, and as we all do, kicks his foot to get the shoe off. However, at this point the shoe launches toward me and I proceed to do that dance you see cowboys do when someone is shooting at their feet. I don't recall if I screamed like a girl or not. Next thing I know Johnny is naked in the stall.

(SIDEBAR #3 - I now realize that I, a male, am in a restroom alone with a naked child....great!)

So, Johnny opens the stall door (still naked) and says, it's everywhere. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD...my eyes begin to water and I am tasting my pizza and wings from the previous nights dinner begin to inch their way up my throat! SO...I step out, take a deep breath of fresh air and return. Johnny wasn't kidding, he had crap from the small of his back to his toes. I request some wetwipes from kindergarten and begin handing them through the cracked stall door. The wetwipes are doing a poor job of removing the plastered crap from his skin. I begin wondering if a pressurewasher is going to be needed to help with the situation.

(SIDEBAR #4 - keep in mind we are minutes from dismissal)

SO, i continue to hand in wetwipes and try to coach in the crap removal process the best I can without looking too long at certain areas! The next thing I hear come out of Johnny's mouth will forever haunt me..."Mr. D, I can't get it off my penis, will you help me please" okay, so I had two options that came to mind, run away screaming OR (the one I chose), "Sorry Johnny, I can't help you, keep scrubbing" The announcements come over the loud speakers, so I encourage Johnny to scrub a few more areas and get his new clothes on because mommy will be here soon. He gets dressed and attempts to hand me the bag with crapped clothes and crap plastered to the outside of the bag. He hands it towards me and it just hits the ground because I don't reach for it.

Ah....the life in an elementary school!

So, the subject of this email should now make sense if you remember that childhood story that goes If you're sliding into first and you feel something burst.....diarrhea....

Haha, thanks for the laugh big brother!