Is the World Getting Bigger…

or am I shrinking?

My school celebrated its 50^th birthday a few years ago. That's quite a milestone. Unfortunately, not only did the school celebrate its 50^th birthday, so did most of its contents. We have old furniture, fixtures, and appliances. Rumor has it, our bungalow classrooms were formally WWII barracks. (Imagine the discount we got on those!)

Our yellow-stained sinks emit an unusual odor that I am guessing comes from the omnipresent black slime caked around the drains. The drains, probably due to that viscous black slime, do not actually "drain" anything. They would be better described as "anti-drains." If it were possible to witness a sink be "undrained," that would be what's really happening because the drains somehow manages to add water to what is already collected in the sinks. It's quite an anomaly.

But on to my original question: Is it possible the world is getting bigger? At five foot three (on a good day), I would hate to think I am shrinking.

Here is why I ask:

By some miracle, or act of the Divine, one of the two toilets in the ladies room broke. Actually, it was no act of the Divine, but instead an act of a playground supervisor who dropped her walkie talkie into the toilet and then flushed. Either way, tell 'em what they've won, Tommy!

A BRAND NEW JOHN!

Our old one was aaannnncient. It was the prototype for what toilets would eventually become BEFORE they had pull chains and a box of water overhead. Rumor has it, Jesus was potty trained on it.

And once it was slain, all the villagers rejoiced! We were finally getting something, anything, NEW at our school! We are so desperate to have something made after 1950 that even a new toilet brought indescribable joy.

On the day they came to install it, female teachers from far and wide came to witness the "unboxing" of that porcelain slice of happiness.

"We won't have to triple flush!"

"Now we don't have to do the Flush and Run!" (The "Flush and Run," when employed properly, prevented you from receiving a facial of your own pee water. How a toilet with virtually no measurable water pressure could do this is yet another amazing plumbing anomaly witnessed at my school.)

"Look how clean the bowl is! It's like freshly fallen snow." (The last one was also like freshly fallen snow…after the dog peed on it.)

Smiles were exchanged, nods of approval shared. It was a damn love-fest among the women over a toilet.

That toilet IS our Sex and the City movie.

Hey, whatever brings the masses together, right?

The time comes for me to give her a test drive.

When I enter, the first thing I notice is that the stall seems markedly smaller. I have to stand to the side of the toilet to shut the door.

No big deal.

I drop trow and attempt to sit down, but I am finding I have to sit "up," so to speak. Wow, this one's kinda high.

Once I finally "mount" the potty, I find that my feet don't touch the floor anymore. I'm taking a leak with my feet swinging like a toddler. I have to hop, literally HOP, off the toilet when I'm done.

And the much-improved flush not only takes all the waste down the drain but also all the oxygen in the room.

Sadly, my joy and love for that new toilet has turned to loathing. It's a beast! Besides, just imagine what it does for my ego when I can't use the "Big Girl" potty like my friends can.

Now I get to hear comments like, "I know it's Edna in there because the door is locked but I can't see any feet."

So now, I wait until the other stall is available. The other stall with the other toilet that is old, yellow, spitting, stinky, and…

doesn't humiliate me.