day seven: one story you want to tell
so, i’ll go for one of my funniest stories of all time. for once, it won’t be about me falling or something dumb like that, which would (and does) make for a funny story. this story is about my dad, and it happened about five years ago.
for almost all of my childhood, my parents and i would meet my BM’s (birth mom) parents somewhere in north georgia, usually around the rome area, once or twice a year. it was the halfway point between augusta and huntsville. we usually would meet around Christmas, so we would spend the day together and exchange Christmas presents. this year was no different, and we pulled into a cracker barrel parking lot on a cold, december saturday morning and realized we were the first ones there. my mom and i were trying to find our purses and such, and my dad really had to go to the bathroom, so he went on into the restaurant.
mom and i followed maybe two minutes after dad had gone inside, and we too decided to go to the bathroom. mom was before me, and she went into the first available stall. i went into the next one and saw that there was something nasty in the toilet, so i said the the ladies behind me, “that one is gross.” i went to the last stall, the handicapped stall, and saw someone STANDING up going to the bathroom. quickly, i realized it was my FATHER.
i shut the door as fast as i could, and one of the ladies behind me asked, “is that one gross, too?” i shook my head and said, “no, someone’s in there.” the ladies both gave me odd looks, and i held onto the door as tight as i could. i turned to look in the crack as my dad was finished, and he says to me, “ashton, what are you doing in the men’s restroom?” i said, “this is the women’s restroom.” my dad gave me this look that said, “crap. how am i going to get out of this one?”
after what seemed like an eternity to both me and my dad, he decided to make his exit. he pushes through the door, looks at the other two ladies and says, “i’m so sorry. i thought this was the men’s restroom,” and proceeds to exit as fast as he possibly could. the ladies look at me with even more confused looks, and then i hear my mom say, “ashton, was that your father?”. i was utterly embarrassed, but i said, “yes,” and i proceeded to enter into the same stall that my dad had just left.
my mom and i finish going to the bathroom, and we head back out to the restaurant. we finally find my dad, and my mom asks him, “carter, did you wash your hands?” he looks at her like she’s crazy and says, “no, i went out to the car and used some hand sanitizer!”my mom and i both laugh, and then my dad says, “i thought that was the strangest men’s restroom i’ve ever been in. there weren’t any urinals!”
later we figured out that if you come into the restaurant and see the signs for the restroom, there is a part of a wall sticking out to where you can only seen “men” and not the “wo” of “women”. this is what my dad saw, but no matter why he went into the women’s restroom, it’s one of our favorite family stories to this day!