|Posted by Elzo on September 17, 19100 at 08:41:27:|
|In response to Re: wood toilet seat|
Hak: Several years ago we had a real embarassing situation occur over a wooden toilet seat. The seat was still as sound as a dollar, but was lookin a little shabby after years of use.
One Saturday mornin when my wife Emma went on her weekly grocery shoppin trip, I decided to paint the toilet seat. I found a can of "Epoxy Spray Enamel" that was just the right color
The minute Emma left with the car for her usual shoppin chores; I commenced to paint that old toilet seat.
I did exactly as the instructions on the can said...I cleaned off any loose paint and roughed up the existing surfaces with some steel wool to promote a better bond with the new paint.
In 20 minutes I had the painting done, and it was lookin mighty good; just like brand new. I had
plenty of time to let it dry 'cause Emma always took several hours to complete her shoppin. I checked it an hour or so later and it seemed almost completely dry. It was then that I read over the instructions on the back of the paint can and noticed the last line. It said it would take approximately 24 hours to dry completely.
I could tell Emma was real pleased with the painted toilet seat because of the little smile on her face when I showed it to Her.
It wasn't long however before things took a turn for the worse. I first became aware that there was a problem when Emma failed to make lunch for me at noontime as she always did. I called out to her, and heard her muffled voice coming from the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the bathroom door and could hear poor Emma sobbing.
I paniced, I didn't know what to do, my mind got to thinkin it might be a Heart attack or a stroke or maybe one of them strange female ailments. I dialed 911 and explained as best I could what the situation was to the lady that answered.
When I returned to tell my Emma that help was on the way, I heard her say "Oh No" very clearly and LOUDLY. She then said "open the door and help me!"
I forced the door open, and there was my poor Emma...stuck fast to the toilet seat. She had been working for some time to free Herself from the tacky toilet seat for quite a spell and had only made things worse with all Her wiggleing.
I could see right off that this was gonna take some doing to get my Emma out of this predicament.
Just then I could hear the siren wailing from the rescue teams' Ambulance. Emma was really distraught over her compromising situation and started to cry. A woman in tears has always been a hard thing for me to deal with...I didn't know what to do.
I could hear the ambulance turning off the main road onto our driveway. Emma by this time had worked her sef into a real state.
Not knowing what else to do, I ran to the closet in the adjoining bed room and grabbed my
Ten Gallon Cowboy hat that I wore to Square Dances occasionally. I quickly brought it to my Emma so that she could cover her nekkedness to some degree before the ambulance folks got there.
No sooner had I handed Emma the hat....the rescue people were at the door. Two young fellows rushed to the bathroom scene and stopped dead in their tracks when they saw my poor Emma settin there with that big hat coverin' her dignity.
After a few awkward moments of silence from the rescue guys while they assessed the problem, the older Boy said.."We can save the Lady sir, but the Cowboy is gone."
After an hour or so of some pretty challenging
manuevering and tugging poor Emma was delivered from the terrible ordeal with that painted toilet seat.
To this very day..if the word paint comes up..or the word seat is mentioned in some unrelated conversation, Emmas eyes seem to narrow as she turns and fixes her gaze on me with out speaking a word.
....DO NOT PAINT A TOILET SEAT...EVER!
I'm sure if a wooden seat is available Terry will be able to locate one for you.
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