Toilets

28 April 2016

Last weekend we went to Edinburgh, stopped 2 nights, had a really good time. I counted over 29,000 steps for the trip, feel better for it; a successful weekend all round.

Incidentally, allowing for her growth since our last city excursion, daughter 2 will have walked around 37,000 steps. We bowed to her request this time, caught a bus for at least a part of our look around the city!

On the way home…

We stop at a motorway services. I need a pee so visit the gents. Washing hands afterwards (fastidious, me) I get a handful of the fluffy soap and place my hand under the automatic tap.

Nothing.

Wave it about, touch the spot I imagine the sensor should be… Nothing. Ok, let’s try the one to my left…

Same again.

Man to my left looks over, amused. “Is it me,” I say, “I can see my reflection in the mirror; not a vampire.” He laughs and leaves, thank goodness. I move left yet again, place my hand carefully. Success!

This morning at work I washed my hands after a, er… (sadly a warm seat this time.) I used the drier. Nice and warm. Lovely and warm in fact. “Oh yes…” I said, out loud, just as the dryer stopped.

I’d thought I had the gents to myself.

Wrong.

Snuffles wrong!

“Oh no,” I said to myself and exited sharply, hoping I’d not been heard.