Remember the time I had to wander around a men's restroom in the dark?

This is the sentence I am going to be using to get Ethan to do things that I don't want to day for a LONG time. It seems that the majority of our humiliatingly funny stories take place in a restroom. (Like THIS ONE, or THIS ONE) Why is that? Well, for starters it might be my unreasonably huge phobia of public restrooms, or maybe it's the fact that my kids pick up on that fear, and play off it. Who knows, but this is one more "potty story" to add to the list. Lately Ethan has had a really bad habit of turning off the light when he leaves a public restroom. Sometimes it doesn't matter, but sometimes there are other people in there, and it is a problem. Usually someone gives a little holler and Ethan will go back in and flip it on again. I'm not sure why he has this problem, he doesn't turn out ANY lights at our house... but back to the matter at hand. A few weeks ago we were traveling a little bit, and we used a LOT of public restrooms. This little lights out problem happened repeatedly, but it was never much of a big deal. Then came the last night of our vacation. We were eating at a restaurant, and Ethan went to the restroom. I was waiting outside the door for him. When he came out he flipped off the light. I started to remind him to turn it back on when all of a sudden a string of profanity came full speed out of the restroom. Somebody had been in there, and he was MAD! Really mad. He had some impressive word-combining skill, and came up with some very colorful sentences. I told Ethan to go back in and turn it on, but he was scooting back against the opposite wall, his eyes the size of dinner plates, and worry etched on his face. Again I said "Ethan, go in there and turn the light on." He looked at me, with is scared little face, and just shook his head slightly.

"Ethan, you have to, that guy is mad!"

Another little shake of the head.

They guy in the bathroom is getting MORE angry, if that's possible. We can hear his frustration through the now closed bathroom door. Something had to be done.

"Ethan, I'm not kidding"

He suddenly springs into life. He takes off toward our table. "I'm going to get Grandpa."

But I know that my dad is already in the truck waiting for us. And now nearly everyone in the restaurant is looking our way, wondering what I had done to make the Angry Pooper so vocal. There was only one thing to do. I had to flip the light on. I opened the door, and stuck my hand in. I felt all along the wall, as far as I could reach. Nothing. No switch. They guy is still yelling. He isn't making any effort to come out of the stall and turn it on himself. Several people are still looking my way, but no one is coming to my aid. (Thanks all of you LAZY men!) I swing the bathroom door open wide to allow for as much light as I can get. Then I plunge into the bathroom, which smells just about the way you would think a men's bathroom might smell, only times ten (Yuck! That's how I know to call him the "angry pooper". It was obvious what he was doing in there, and probably that is why he was so mad about the little predicament, and why he made no move to remedy the situation...) I still can't see the switch, and the door is about to swing closed again. Just as the light dims I see the switch on the opposite wall from where I had been looking. I dive for it, just as the light ends. I feel around the wall in the dark, finally find the switch, flip it on, cover my eyes just in case somebody was exposed. I dart for the door, dash across the restaurant and into the freedom of the outdoors, run across the parking lot, jump in the truck and yell for my dad to "GO! Drive!" You would think I had just held up the place or something, but I did need to make a get away, and fast before anyone saw my face. Whew, and then I was safe. But I do think I will avoid Price, Ut and the surrounding areas for a while just in case someone might recognize me! On second thought maybe we should avoid public places all together for a while...