What Can Come of a Fear of Toilets
A friend of mine who has little kids was describing the difficulties she has when her children need to use public restrooms. Apparently, they are both utterly terrified of automatic flush toilets.
She has to coax them into the cubicle with promises of not allowing the thing to flush until they are finished, but if she's not vigilant enough and their fidgeting sets the thing off, she has to stop a screaming, half-dressed three year old from running out of the bathroom. Even if the mission is successful and a flush occurs while she's attempting to dress the kid, panic and hysteria can set in. Her younger child has been known lately to have accidents while out, rather than brave the automatic flushers. It has become a real problem, because these toilets are everywhere.
I don't really blame these kids for being scared. I'm sure everyone has had the experience by now of having your bum washed by one of these demented things flushing prematurely. The first time it happened to me, I screamed out loud.
I used to be afraid to use the toilet in the house where I grew up. My father built the house, and whoever installed the toilet did not do it properly. It would only flush successfully about 60% of the time. The other 40% of the time it would overflow, requiring vigorous plunging to set it right, and there was no predicting when it would happen - the toilet was quite irrational, and would sometimes overflow simply because there was liquid in it.
I lived in that house from the age of 1 1/2 until I was 18, and as a young girl I was afraid to flush the toilet in case it overflowed and no one was available to help (I couldn't plunge it myself until I was about nine) - or worse, if my father was home. My father had a temper, and was often mercurial. If I didn't flush the toilet (my instinct) I would get yelled at. If I did flush the toilet and it overflowed, I would get yelled at more for not "flushing it right." . I think it's no mystery as to why I had chronic constipation as a kid.
I even had nightmares about the thing overflowing in the middle of the night and flooding the house. For years I would wake up with a start if I heard a toilet flush somewhere.
However, I did eventually get big enough to wrestle with the toilet personally and I could set it right in minutes. I can now plunge with the best of them, thanks to my father's psychotic commode, and if a domestic toilet misbehaves anywhere I know exactly what to do about it, including turning off the water supply.
But like my friends' kids, I don't like getting my bum washed unexpectedly.
It's quite scary.
She has to coax them into the cubicle with promises of not allowing the thing to flush until they are finished, but if she's not vigilant enough and their fidgeting sets the thing off, she has to stop a screaming, half-dressed three year old from running out of the bathroom. Even if the mission is successful and a flush occurs while she's attempting to dress the kid, panic and hysteria can set in. Her younger child has been known lately to have accidents while out, rather than brave the automatic flushers. It has become a real problem, because these toilets are everywhere.
I don't really blame these kids for being scared. I'm sure everyone has had the experience by now of having your bum washed by one of these demented things flushing prematurely. The first time it happened to me, I screamed out loud.
I used to be afraid to use the toilet in the house where I grew up. My father built the house, and whoever installed the toilet did not do it properly. It would only flush successfully about 60% of the time. The other 40% of the time it would overflow, requiring vigorous plunging to set it right, and there was no predicting when it would happen - the toilet was quite irrational, and would sometimes overflow simply because there was liquid in it.
I lived in that house from the age of 1 1/2 until I was 18, and as a young girl I was afraid to flush the toilet in case it overflowed and no one was available to help (I couldn't plunge it myself until I was about nine) - or worse, if my father was home. My father had a temper, and was often mercurial. If I didn't flush the toilet (my instinct) I would get yelled at. If I did flush the toilet and it overflowed, I would get yelled at more for not "flushing it right." . I think it's no mystery as to why I had chronic constipation as a kid.
I even had nightmares about the thing overflowing in the middle of the night and flooding the house. For years I would wake up with a start if I heard a toilet flush somewhere.
However, I did eventually get big enough to wrestle with the toilet personally and I could set it right in minutes. I can now plunge with the best of them, thanks to my father's psychotic commode, and if a domestic toilet misbehaves anywhere I know exactly what to do about it, including turning off the water supply.
But like my friends' kids, I don't like getting my bum washed unexpectedly.
It's quite scary.