A Conversation

The following conversation took place in the restroom of a local restaurant between me and the Magster.

We enter the restroom and the Magster reserves one stall, La Nina takes the other. There are only two stalls.

Me: "Mags, do you need help?"

Another patron enters the restroom.

Magster: "No, Mom. I need my piracy."

I stand outside the door. La Nina is taking care of business, the Magster begins making grunts and groans. She sounds like a truck driver after eating coffee shop chili.

Me: "Mags, you ok?"

Mags: "Oh yeah. It's just a really big one, Mom."

Other patron starts snickering. More truck driver sounds from the restroom.

Me: "Are you sure you don't need help?"

Mags, her voice strained: "Mom, this is the last one." Then a sigh of relief.

La Nina leaves her restroom. Other patron crying with laughter enters stall. I'm just hoping Mags isn't going to ask...

Mags: "I'm ready for a wipe down."

Me: "Ok. La Nina, wash your hands and wait for me." I enter the stall, provide the required assistance. Turn to leave.

Mags: "Mom. Look how big my poo-poo friend is. Look. Look."

Me: "Just flush it Mags."

Mags: "OK." Flush. "Bye, bye poo-poo friends."

Patron in the stall next to Mags is starting to worry me. I fear she's hyperventilating. I just really want to go back to my dinner, not that I'm hungry. I just don't think I can face this woman.

We wash up and leave. As we're drying our hands, the woman exits her stall, she crying as if she's chopped an full onion. I flee the bathroom before she can find our table. I bet that woman didn't realize she'd signed up for the dinner show.

The funny thing is: Mags usually refuses to even use a public restroom. I don't know what got into her...