WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM : I Went Into the Women's Bathroom But There's a Problem: I'm a Man

     I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I am not a pervert. I am not a seeker of cheap thrills. I am a proud father of three and husband of one. I've never spent a night in jail- though I probably should have after a couple of pranks back in my younger days that went slightly overboard- and I've never knowingly entered a women's bathroom to be excused. I take that back. I have done that. It was on a mission trip (believe it or not) and the buildings serving as our living facilities were segregated by gender and guys were allowed to use the women's rest rooms on our side of the church. It felt kinda weird but it smelled really good in there with all the fragrances scattered throughout the room. Why don't they have these in the men's rooms? But I digress.
     It started out innocently enough when what's left of my live-at-home family went to eat pizza. My older two sons have flown the coop so it's me, the Mrs., and an 18-year-old senior in high school who loves Pizza Hut. After we were seated and completed our order, I announced that I was headed to the rest room. This is a major part of my schedule these days now that I am 53 and my prostate continues to enlarge itself like a balloon being inflated by one of those pump things at a kid's party.
     So off I went to relieve myself for the 12th time that day. I always pay attention to the signs on the doors but prefer the ones where they have pictures on the door- usually a man in a suit and a woman in a dress. But these days those may not be entirely accurate or politically correct so I don't see them much anymore. But I digress.
     After entering what I thought was the correct facility, I chose not to rest though it's referred to as a rest room. I didn't take a bath though most people call it a bathroom. I used the latrine- as my late military step-grandfather would say. It was a one toilet operation where you lock the entrance door to the outside behind you. And for that I ended up being profoundly thankful in the end. While conducting my business, I heard someone trying to turn the knob and then the faint tapping of a knock or two. I remember thinking that it didn't seem like a masculine knock. There's a guy out there that needs to man up, I decided.
     As I washed my hands I was surprised and pleased to notice a small jar of potpourri or something of that sort by the sink. "Us men are finally getting the equal rights we deserve," I supposed.
     I did notice that the soap dispenser was empty. "Picking on men again," I fumed. So when I returned to our table, I asked for hand sanitizer and reminded my son that there was no soap in the bathroom. He returned from taking care of his business a few minutes later and said, "Funny thing, Dad, there's plenty of soap in the dispenser." One of the workers must have entered to service the "rest room" just after I exited, I supposed. That's probably who was knocking, I told my family.
     But there didn't seem to be many employees on duty and the ones who were working appeared awful busy tossing pizzas up in the air. Suddenly our eyes all met and we shrieked in horror. Had Dad gone and relieved himself in the women's "bath room"?
     There was only one way to find out. Mom volunteered to go. When she returned she had one of those "I've got you now Mr. Husband and I'm not going to let you down easy" grins on her face. "Guess what, there's no soap in the women's bathroom soap dispenser."
     My life flashed before my eyes. I turned various shades of purple. I looked around to see who all might have noticed and called 911 to report me. I imagined headlines in newspapers and tickers across the bottom of television screens announcing my transgression- "College baseball coach arrested in North Carolina for perversion and crimes against nature: judge promises to throw full force of the law in sentencing phase."
     We began to chuckle. Then we started cackling like hens. And when all was said and done, we were laughing out loud, ruining the peace and tranquility our neighboring patrons had been enjoying.
     I didn't get reported. I didn't get arrested. I am not in jail. If anyone in the restaurant noticed, including the effeminate door tapper, they didn't rat on me. They showed grace and let me off the hook.
     I couldn't help but be reminded of all the occasions in my life when God has showed me His Grace as well. I've done much worse than enter a female bathroom facility yet God has not sentenced me to death or destruction, despite my deserving it. His Amazing Grace, revealed through His Son's death on the cross, covers my mistakes if I but accept the gift. And for that I am eternally thankful, literally.
     So if you see me dart into the "wrong facility" at some point, know that I won't be sentenced to a life separated from the Lord, though it may get me a few days in the slammer. At least in there I'll have my very own stainless steel toilet.