Liz’s Toilet Terrors in France and Spain
When I asked about the toilets, Hannah not only told me where they were but gave me other advise too. She told me to push the red button to lock the door, which I did confidently. I tried the door again and sure enough it was locked. Just as a smirk of satisfaction crossed my face a sudden, the lights went off and an extremely loud sound made me jump and reach for the door like that was all I could depend on to keep me safe. But it was no use, the water just kept shooting out, soaking the bottom of my jeans and making me feel so scared that the fact that it was only water shooting out at me seemed to have escaped my frozen with fright brain. I pulled and pulled at the door desperately and continuously accomplishing nothing, for it had locked just like i’d hoped it would 3 minutes ago.
Eventually it stopped and when it did I stood there shaking out of control as if someone had just put a knife to my throat. Why I felt like that is beyond me, perhaps I should keep off the adventure books for a while. the lesson from this is very similar to others: “Don’t push the red button” or you may find yourself in the bathroom as it vigerously self cleans itself.
I considered my lesson learned. Or so I thought…
Another country, another terrifying self cleaning experience. This time I had an audience. As I banged on the door and screamed for help Mum, Dad, Abi, Hannah, TJ, Sam and Donald all watched, laughing! Unable to do anything else.”HELP!” I screamed. “Push the red button” mum said back, but she couldn’t be heard above the chaos.
I came out shaking and told my second story (as you can see in the picture above) as everyone failed to hold in all the giggles they had left. Why does it always happen to me? I asked myself as you’d probably expect I would. Is it some kind of curse or am I just too stupid to make sure it doesn’t happen again? Or do the toilets have it out for me…
The toilets probably know how full of it you are 🙂