Red-Faced In Philly
Stopped for lunch on our way home from Philly.
All visited restrooms and didn’t dilly.
After consuming our lunch,
in preparation for a long drive,
He, again, dashed to the restroom getting ready to ride.
Emerging from the toilet stall door,
there was his wife in the middle of the floor.
“Aren’t you in the wrong place”, he quizzed,
knowing, of course, she was wrong---again!
“No, I am not,” was her soft reply.
“But how about you, Honey Pie?”
His eyes bulged in disbelief,
no urinals on the walls, no, no, it can’t be!
In the ladies restroom, no, not he!
Suddenly feeling so deathly weak,
Face on fire, he could hardly speak,
“Is, is.. is... there anyone else in this place?”
“I don’t think so”, she replied,
laughing so hard she nearly cried,
“but I don’t know which is redder, your jacket or your face!”
Out the door he bolted in a shameful haste,
“Help me make it without being detected”,
fervently he prayed!!!
Exiting the ladies’ room door---
forget that handwashing chore,
already wet from drenching in cold sweat--
he ran straight into his son’s grimacing face,
who was about to enter the men’s place,
on the opposite side of the foyer.
Wouldn’t you know, the first thing he crooned,
“Dad, what are you doing coming out of the ladies’ restroom?”
His explanation was somewhat short
as this was just no time to cavort.
Out the restaurant door he flew
for fresh air, mopping his brow in a grateful wheeew!
Won Honorable Mention in
Paula Swanson's Contest
"New Contest--The Light Is On, But Nobody Is Home"
June 13, 2010
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