Poop Mold

This was probably the second grossest moment of my life. You don’t wanna know the first.

Our summer mission has been SO blessed with an amazing hotel to stay in while we’re in VA beach. We have mini-kitchens-but there’s a microwave, stove top, dishwasher and fridge.

We have couches that you’re not afraid to put your bare face on (oddly an upgrade from last years housing).

Lindsey and I share a bedroom-but we share a king sized bed, so there’s PLENTY of room for us.

BUT.

You know there’s always a “but” with me.

A few students have made the comment about mold in their toilets that they can’t get out. In my mind only (I’m not savage), I think, “ew. Clean your toilets better.” Which luckily, we provide cleaning supplies (toilet bowl cleaner and a brush) to our students and do room checks each Sunday to make sure 47 college students are not totally trashing the place.

In preparation for Leslie doing room checks tomorrow, I volunteered (as tribute) to clean our bathroom which included scrubbing our mold free toilet.

I put the toilet bowl cleaner in and allowed it to soak while I scrubbed the rest of the bathroom. About three minutes later, I started to tackle our toilet-which up until that point, I was BLISSFULLY UNAWARE that there too was mold in our toilet. I started to scrub the toilet and decided to scrub under the lip of the toilet and sure enough-mold chunks started falling.

Now. Listen. I am NOT one to be “one upped” by my students, so it became MY MISSION to get rid of all the mold that I could not see but knew was there.

I was scrubbing and scrubbing and then had the thought, “man, how AWFUL would it be if mold flung off this brush and hit me in the face.”

SELF FULFILLING PROPHECY, YALL-BUT WORSE.

Not ONLY did some HOTEL-MULTI-COLON-POOP-MOLD fling at me… IT HIT ME IN (I REPEAT HIT ME IN) THE EYE.

Two seconds after I thought about E.Coli hitting me, I saw it fly through the air straight into my face. Reliving the moment in slow mo in my brain, I saw myself turn as quick as I could, but my scrubbing powers were too forceful. The poo mold was coming at me.

I felt it hit my eye.

I screamed, “NOOOO. NOOOO. NOOOOOOO. LINDSEY. GET IN HERE.”

I looked in the mirror and made her look at my eye, and sure enough on my bottom lashline right on my tear duct of my right eye was a long glob of mold FROM THE TOILET.

I’ve never seen anyone sympathy puke, but lindsey instantly started gagging. So just go ahead and picture the scene: I am in the bathroom screaming “Nooo. Nooooo. Nooooo.” with my hand over my eye, while Lindsey can’t even look at me without gagging and almost puking in the toilet THAT NO ONE BETTER POOP IN EVER AGAIN BECAUSE I SWEAR IM NEVER CLEANING IT AGAIN.

After the freakout, I grabbed a tissue, wiped it out and then desperately grabbed my antibacterial soap and foamed it all over my right eye.

I’m sure there’s SOME spiritual metaphor here, but I literally “can’t even right now” to try to figure it out.

Feel free to hypothesize for me and leave your thoughts in the comments section. For your own enjoyment, here’s a pic lindsey took and posted in our staff group me.

DYING YALL.

I’m dead.

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