I used the word "loo" in deference to any British readers who may happen by here. Or Aussies. Do they call it the "loo" also?
We have a faculty restroom at our end of the building, and it's convenient to all five of our classrooms. There is another faculty restroom all the way at the front of the building, but I rarely use it because it's about three quarters of a mile away. Maybe not quite that far, but it involves several turns. It's also the restroom where a former paraprofessional admitted to sitting and eavesdropping on the assistant principal, because she could hear everything coming from that office. I don't want anyone to think that's why I'm in there, so I just don't go in there much. Plus the light switch is really high up on the wall, and I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach it. And when you turn on the water you might as well be taking a shower, because EVERY SINGLE TIME you're going to forget that the water in that particular bathroom comes on with a lot more force than it should. And you forget that because you rarely go into that bathroom. It's in the same room as the faculty mailboxes, and I rarely visit those either. Once a day, usually, when I sign in at the front office. Actually, teachers don't get much mail in their boxes anymore, not with the advent of email. Is that the correct use of the word "advent"?
Occasionally I might have to make a trip up to the office, however, and today was one of those days. I figured while I was up there, I would use the "loo" on that end of the building, just in case ours was occupied when I got back. With a staff of only 5, you'd be surprised how often two (or more) of us feel the urge to go at the same time.
Aren't you glad you stopped by here?
There are catalogs in that bathroom, and I find that disturbing in the first place. I know for a fact that they must have been put there by a man, because (forgive me for being sexist), men are the only people who go into the restroom with the premeditated idea that they will be there long enough to read. Or peruse a catalog.
When I left, I took one catalog with me, and I dropped it into the trashcan in my classroom when I got back.
Like I said, I don't go in there very often, but every time I do, this is what I find staring back at me:
Let me say here that I am definitely NOT squeamish. My friend Carol and I had to dissect a fetal pig in Mr. Smith's biology class in high school, and we had a great time doing it. We named it and everything. I still remember it had its little tongue sticking out the side of its mouth. When the quarter changed and Carol wasn't in that class anymore, I cut the snout off and put it in Carol's locker. I knew she would want a memento of her experiences with whatever-we-named-the-pig. Mr. Smith had threatened dire consequences if one cell of any fetal pig left that room. Naturally I took that as a challenge.
These pictures are on the front of a catalog called Dissection Materials 2009. They have an entire CATALOG of those? And it comes out every year? Seriously?
I didn't thumb through the catalog, so I don't know how much a fetal pig runs, or a frog, or a ... is that a mouse? I don't really want to look at it that closely. I think you can get quantity discounts.
I'm not squeamish, but I find these images just a little disturbing. Especially if they are staring back at me when I'm in the loo.
No comments:
Post a Comment