Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

It’s not that I didn’t see the huge “Wet Floor” cone in the bathroom. I saw it. I looked around and saw no wetness anywhere. Then I picked the cleanest stall.

But, when I left the stall,  the bottom 1/3 of my pant legs were soaking wet. It’s never good to notice wet pants in the public bathroom. I looked down and only then did I see the lake surrounding the toilet.

I took a deep breath, and propped my foot up under the hand dryer.  I stood there trying to remain calm.

Of course someone else walked into the bathroom.

“Be careful!” I said. And then I tried to quickly tell this stranger why I was doing an odd stance at the wall under the dryer.

Switching legs, I wondered how long a dryer that said “Feel the Power” would take to dry the bottom of my pants.

Too long — it takes too long. So I just left, hoping nobody would notice that the bottom of my pants were dark. I was also hoping it was just water.

Sadly, this all felt a little familiar. Almost 20 years ago, on the way back from our honeymoon, I went to the airplane bathroom, and green liquid seeped up my pant legs. For the rest of the flight I felt it seeping up higher and higher, and the chemical smell gave me a terrible headache.  I thought about that story as I walked around the store, frowning.

I want this story to mean something… “Every 20 years, watch your step!” Or, “When you think things are bad, remember it’s not green liquid seeping up your pants!” Or even, “Don’t try to go on errands after school!” But the reality is,  as I walked around the store quickly, with my pants a little heavier and a grimace on my face,  the only thing that cheered me up was thinking, “Oh! I can slice this!”

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

Tonight, we went to see Kinky Boots. We felt a little guilty putting off our homework until later tonight, but Mary Ehrenworth told us to go out and have fun, so it was like a direction, right?

The theater was beautiful, and the seats were great! There’s nothing like the feeling of a show about to start: the crowd gathers, the excitment mounts, we take turns going to the restroom.

As my friend and I walked into the bathroom, we laughed along with a few others. Like an unpopular amusement park ride, the maze of rope to enter was empty in the uncrowded bathroom. We rushed through it, feeling silly as we twisted and turned around the long maze. On the way out of the bathroom, I laughed again and shook my head because the next few people to come in just walked around the rope.

They walked around the rope. I bet those people would be good at lateral thinking puzzles.

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

I sit and  look around. I’m still in slow motion, heart racing. I see a woman. She doesn’t seem to have noticed that anything happened. A car drives by, its driver oblivious. My hands are shaking slightly and I pull over, hazards on.

I take a deep breath in, allow my eyes to close for a moment, breathe out.

Before this,

I lived in a slow motion moment. I drove down the street, watchful but relaxed. Listening to Hamilton, almost home. Suddenly, a van cut across the street directly in front of me. (They made the word suddenly specifically for situations like this, I think.) 

I slammed the brake and watched as my car still got closer to the van as the van continued across the street. I braced for impact, eyes squinted. I hoped I wouldn’t hit the van too hard, I pressed the brake. The van kept going, I kept going. Shouldn’t brakes work faster than this? My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I wondered if maybe I would just scrape the back of the van. 

And then it was over. The van went on its merry way, and I watched as cars passed all around me, unconcerned. 

Now safely pulled over, I call Mr. Thought.

“I’m okay,” I start, because I am.

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

a lot of people are coughing around here
and the dog has some sort of weird dry skin 
vet says it isn't mites

it's December so
you know -

my second grader got short of breath
his inhaler, expired
I called the doctor 

it's December so
you know -

I wasn't going to eat sugar this month
trader joe's had dark chocolate orange candy
seltzer water counts as water, right?

it's December so
you know -

just a few more holiday errands to run
Santa must be exhausted this time of year
does he know about amazon prime?

it's December so
you know.