The following story is true. It is a tale of how, upon the suggestion of Andy, 5 little girls patiently waited until the adults retired to bed to wreak anarchy upon the household. And how their seemingly victimless prank caused another uncle horror and anguish. Brandon has been invited as a guest to tell his story...
"I remember it as if it were yesterday… I was attending my wife’s family reunion at a nice cabin in Heber City, UT. This wasn’t exactly what you would call roughing it – the place was huge and had ALL the amenities you could ask for. However, one of the major challenges was simply the fact that there were 27 people in this place… and only 3 bathrooms.
My day started out A-ok. I fished, played some pool, ate some grub, yada-yada-yada. I had been at the cabin for 2 days now, and was really starting to feel the need to...let’s just say I had been eating well, and what goes in must come out.
About 8 pm, I made my way into the bathroom to scout out the facilities:
Sturdy toilet, able to support a hefty carriage - check.
Ample lighting for reading any and all reading material - check.
Toilet paper – (oooh, glad I checked. Nothing hanging on the wall).
No problem. I see a roll sitting on the counter, which I abruptly hung on the wall, mindful to be sure and have the end hang over the top, in its correct manner. Just then, I realize there is a commotion at the other end of the house. I leave the bathroom to examine said commotion, and spend the next 3 to 4 minutes trying to get my girls in bed. My kids always resist going to bed, and think up any and every excuse to prolong the ordeal. They will need drinks, dolls, and other sundry items they have collected throughout the day. I oblige these requests patiently, because I know I’m just a few minutes away from some long overdue relaxation in the bathroom.
OK, the girls are now in bed, and it’s finally ‘Brandon Time’. Ahhhh… I sit down and begin nature’s business. Everything is pretty much standard procedure. I read, I relax – and now for the final act… I reach for the toilet paper…
To my absolute astonishment (and horror), the precious item that had just moments before hung on the wall was gone. Vanished. “What?!?!? How could this be???!?? Just a few minutes ago… I… hung…. Right there…???”
Panic. Heart racing, adrenaline kicking in. I do a double-take and then scan the bathroom. The toilet paper is definitely AWOL. Out of sheer desperation, I display acrobatic moves that would impress any Eastern European gymnast and look through each drawer in the counter. Nothing.
I yelled out in frustration, “Dang it!!!”. No response. Then, for reasons I still don’t completely understand, I started to yell out to Andy for help. After two or three cries to him, I realize there is no way Andy is coming in here to throw me a lifeline. I’m left with just one option:
I gotta get busy livin’, or get busy drying. It’s that simple.
I’ve since labeled the next 90 seconds as my
‘Trail of Smears’. I wandered 50 yards through a crowded house, petrified that someone would notice my condition. At one point, I thought I made eye contact with Marty, who was sitting directly in my line-of-view.
My excursion seemed to take hours. All the while, I could hear unseen voices in my head pointing at me and yelling, “Unclean! Unclean!”. Ohhh, the humanity.
Eventually, I found the good stuff. Four rolls of unused paper, sitting in another bathroom. It was like manna from the heavens. Never has a paper product looked so absolutely divine.
I’ll spare you some details here, but suffice it to say that once I returned to my normal self, I embarked on finding the culprit behind the ‘Paper Caper’. I was angry, and I demanded to know who had done this to me.
Nobody fessed up to the crime. All my supposed ‘loved ones’ did was laugh and mock me. I spent the rest of the evening eyeballing each one of them – waiting for some sign that they were behind the thievery. I watched them like a poker player, waiting for any sign that they had a guilty conscious. Sadly, I got nothing. I retired for the evening, confident that some mother had taken the roll of toilet paper to keep by their bedside to wipe a child’s nose in the night. “I hope this person is happy that their small convenience nearly caused me a diaper rash of epic proportions”, I thought over and over.
In the morning, the household awoke to quite the sight: streams of toilet paper, spread out about the house. It was mockery like I’d never experienced. It didn’t take anyone too long to uncover the real scenario. A bunch of little girls (inspired by one evil uncle – ironically enough, Andy the resident policeman), had snuck about just before bedtime stealing toilet paper. They faked asleep until the house got quiet, then they arose and did some teenage ‘ToiletPapering’. I didn’t know whether to be proud (I mean, it was quite impressive for a 6- and 8-year-old) or let them experience my wrath.
The craziest part of the story is that prior to our finding out that little girls had pranked us, the family assumed I got up in the night and took out my revenge by scattering TP around like some sort of deranged psychopath. (Speaking of deranged psychopaths, Andy was disappointed that they only managed to disperse 2 and ½ rolls of paper about the house).
In the end, I laughed it off. However, if you would have looked in any of my pockets at any time during the remainder of the reunion, you would have seen about 25 Kleenexes. You know, just in case…"
Thanks for your honesty, Brandon.
Upon retrospection, the girls were acting awfully suspicious the night before: lingering in bathrooms, hoarding items in their pinata goodie bags, and strait-as-an-arrow Morgan suddenly wanting to sleep in her parents' room. She didn't want to be found guilty by association.
And actually, for all us moms with sick, runny-nosed babies, this prank ended up being quite convenient. Tools to wipe noses were within an arm's reach all morning.
