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A evening with my arm stuck down a toilet in Brooklyn - a 30 year old curse broken

Tom Winnifrith
Tuesday 29 December 2015

Almost thirty years ago, when I lived with the folks who are now godparents to my daughter in Prospect Heights Brooklyn, they went away for a weekend leaving me in charge of the dogs and cat. One of the dogs crapped in the house and in clearing up the mess I contrived to block the downstairs loo. Red faced, I confessed on their return.

There was well concealed displeasure but clearly they viewed me as daft. I am staying with the same folks, now in Crown Heights Brooklyn, and tonight they went out to a play leaving me in charge of my daughter and a cat called Parker who has certain lavatorial issues.

I am sure you can guess what happened next. Yup, Parker crapped in the hall. I cleaned up and flushed just two small pieces of kitchen paper down the loo which is clearly tighter than a virgin gerbil as it got blocked. I just could not face a repeat of the events of 1986 and thus I spent the evening alternately watching a slice of Foyle's War on video with my daughter and sticking a wire hanger I had with me further and further up the U-bend.

As Foyle sent yet another chap to meet justice and the rope - in this case a German spy - triumph in Brooklyn: a successful flush. I have felt guilty about blocking up that loo for almost thirty years. Suddenly there is a great weight lifted from my shoulders.

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About Tom Winnifrith
Tom Winnifrith is the editor of When he is not harvesting olives in Greece, he is (planning to) raise goats in Wales.
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