“Don’t Use A Stick”

Bougie Daddy (AKA Chris) doesn’t always listen too well. There are many stories that I can attest to this fact, but this is the best camping story to explain just how well he doesn’t listen.

We were camping last summer in Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park in Gardiner, NY. We were on our way back from an over 2-week trip from NJ to ME, and this was our last stop. We (almost) did it! We took our longest trip ever with the most stops. We stayed at 7 campgrounds along the way. So this was a great place for the kids to play and the parents to relax. We pulled into our site, went to the bathroom after our long drive, grabbed a cooler and headed right to the pool.

It was awesome.

We stayed at the pool for a few hours and made it back to the site for a very late dinner.

When I entered the camper I immediately panicked. There was about an inch of water all over the floor. I didn’t know what to do! Where was this coming from?!? I opened the toilet lid and saw that one of the kids got the toilet flap stuck with toilet paper and the water was flowing in (and evidently had been for hours!) Now what?!? What the heck do I do? I’m screaming for Chris to come help while trying to soak up the water with all the towels we have. I step on the foot petal (that’s how you flush the camper toilet for my friends new to this gig…) and nothing. It was sealed shut with pressure. Chris yells, “Get a stick! Push it down with a stick.” I take the toilet bowl brush and attempt to gently push the flap in and release the pressure. Nope. Not happening.

Now Chris enters the scene. I explain the pressure scenario. I tell him, “I’m going to turn off the water. Do NOT use a stick.”

He agrees. I repeat. “No stick.” He says, “OK.”

I turn and walk out of the camper. I close the door behind me. I walk towards the front of the camper. We didn’t even unhook the truck when we got there. I short cut it and hurdle over the hitch to get to the other side when I hear, “Oh sh**.”

“WHAT?!?!” I yell.

“I used a stick.”

Welcome to my life, friends.

I curse my way to the water access. Turn it off. Walk the long way around the car. (What’s the hurry now? The damage is done.) I enter the camper after some long, deep breathing to find Chris with BBQ tongs trying to fish the toilet flap out of the bottom of the holding tank through the hole. The whole flap snapped off.

I turned around and walked out of the camper.

Of course adding unnecessary stress to this situation are my kids asking questions every two seconds. “What’s wrong? What happened? Is it broken? Do we have to go home? Why didn’t daddy listen to you?”

::sigh::

I texted my friend who has WAY more experience camping than I do and who’s husband is super handy (and maybe listens? I don’t know…) and ask her what she would do. She basically tells me I probably need a new toilet and to plug it with a ball.

So off to the camper store on my bike I go. Before I do, I make sure Chris gets on the phone with the Coach RV company that we have a subscription with which is like AAA for campers. (We weren’t fools to think we wouldn’t break something, c’mon!)

Meanwhile, while I was gone, our camping wood was delivered. Yes, we get it delivered when we can. Would we be Bougie if we didn’t? The guy tells Chris to call his buddy and he could come help tomorrow. He also said to Saran Wrap the toilet until he got there so the sewer gasses don’t come in the camper.

I get the text: “get Saran Wrap too.”

Fine

I return with a ball and Saran Wrap in hand and give them to Chris.

I fix dinner on the grill for the now starving Bougie children, as Chris tells me he’s “got this” and I continue to fume and pout outside the camper having thoughts of toxic sewer gas in the camper as myself and the children sleep.

We eat outside and I return to the camper to clean up after Chris announces to the family that everything is fine now.

This is what I find.

Evidently he didn’t Saran Wrap a toilet as a prank when he was a child. However, I was rethinking his Christmas wrapping skills.

He used almost the entire roll.

And yes, the ball is in there blocking the flap too.

We slept fine…no toxic gasses. The windows were open and we’re still here to share this story, so that’s good.

The next day, in an effort to not add insult to injury, Chris announces that he will wait at the site for the repair man and I can take the kids to the pool.

Bye.

We return at the end of the day to find this:

We needed a new toilet, of course. And the repair man asked if Chris wraps the Christmas presents in our family, as expected. My son asked if he could have the ball that was in the toilet. (Answer: No.)

The repair man didn’t have the pedestal toilet like we were used to. So now we have a “squatty potty” type toilet in the RV.

“It comes out better now.” Says Chris.